MEMORY DAYS 



m 



MEMORY DAYS 



In Which the Shenandoah Valley is Seen in 

Retrospection, With Glimpses of School 

Days and the Life of Virginia People 

of Fifty Years Ago 



By 
ALEXANDER S. PAXTON 




New York and Washington 
THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1908 






iwo Copies r(eK:bi .. 

APh 20 iyo8 

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Copyright, 1908, by 
The Neale Publishing Company, 



To the memory of my sainted father and mother this 
volume is affectionately dedicated 



CONTENTS 

Page 
I The Valley and Eastern Vir- 
ginia, II 

II Crystal Spring, 23 

III The Old Home, 30 

IV Crystal Spring Seminary, .... 3^ 
V School Begins, 44 

VI A Day in School, 5^ 

VII The Hawk's Nest, 63 

VIII The Last Day of School, 70 

IX Stray Blossoms, 79 

X A New Administration, 85 

XI An Elopement, 95 

XII Reconstruction at Crystal 

Spring, 104 

XIII Muster and Circus Days, 113 

XIV School Amusements, 121 

XV Barring Out the Teacher, 127 

XVI Christmas Times, 136 

XVII The Death Angel, 142 

XVIII A Wreck and a Deer Hunt, . . 147 

XIX Winter Sports, 156 



MEMORY DAYS 



Page 

XX 'Possum Hunting, 163 

XXI The New Teacher, 168 

XXII Marriage Bells, 179 

XXIII Barring the Teacher In, 184 

XXIV The Natural Bridge, 191 

XXV Cousin Jennie's Party, 196 

XXVI Declamation Evenings, 204 

XXVII Narrow Escapes, 211 

XXVIII Commencement Day, 217 

XXIX The Virginia Military Institute, 223 

XXX Falling Spring Church, 235 

XXXI Concerning Courtship, 241 

XXXII The Last School Day at the 

Seminary, 253 

XXXIII Political Affairs, 261 

XXXIV Washington College, 268 

XXXV Tournaments, 277 

XXXVI Last Visit to Crystal Spring, . . 284 



"Sweet Memory, wafted by thy gentle gale, 

Oft up the stream of time I turn my sail 

To view the fairy haunts of long-lost hours 

Blest with far greener shades, far lovelier bowers," 

— Samuel Rogers 



CHAPTER I 

THE VALLEY AND EASTERN VIRGINIA 

'"Tis a land of falling herds and fruitful fields, — 
All joys that peace and plenty yield; 
Earth's sweetest flowers here shed perfume, 
And here Earth's fairest maidens bloom." 

Shenandoah, in the poetic language of the In- 
dian, signifies "Daughter of the stars." 

How the savages came by this name we do not 
know. It might have been from the springs that, 
far up on the sides of the Blue Ridge, send their 
little streams purling over their stony beds, here 
and there leaping over some ledge and rushing 
from their sources under the stars to feed the beau- 
tiful river that flows at the base. Or perhaps as 
the Red Man looked down into the crystal depths 
of the river and saw mirrored there the stars he 
loved, the Great Spirit whispered into his ear the 
name so fitting and so beautiful, "Daughter of 
the stars." 

And the Valley to which this stream has given 
its name is not less beautiful than the river. With 
a rich and well watered soil, with abundant wood- 
land, at an early day it invited a class of Immi- 



12 MEMORY DAYS 

grants who by thrift and Industry made it a garden 
spot. The old Scotch-Irish pioneers came with the 
rifle and the axe, with the Bible and the family 
altar, with the church and the schoolhouse, and 
laid the foundations of the grandest part of the 
State that now rejoices in being named for the 
virgin queen. On toward the west they moved, 
and fields bending under rich crops smiled in the 
sunshine, and villages and towns sprang up as if 
by magic. Surely it was a goodly land, and the 
ante-bellum days were noted for the high tone of 
their social life. They were industrious and en- 
joyed the fruits of their labor. Their homes, 
mostly of brick, were stately, their barns painted 
and with glass windows, almost rivalling in ap- 
pearance the dwelling itself. 

The strongest religious denomination was the 
Presbyterian, and the old stone churches, on Sab- 
bath days, were crowded. Some of the oldest 
Valley churches were the old Stone Church, and 
Tinkling Spring, so called from the tinkling of 
the water of a spring which fell over a ledge of 
rock. Then there was Falling Spring, where the 
water gushed from the foot of the hill and leaped 
over a ledge into a basin several feet below. These 
were the gates of Jerusalem, as the psalmist sang, 
* 'whither the tribes of the Lord went up to the 



VALLEY AND EASTERN VIRGINIA 1 3 

testimony of Israel, to give thanks unto the name 
of the Lord." The cemeteries of these grand old 
churches were well enclosed and cared for. As 
I have walked in them I have felt that I should 
remove the shoes from off my feet, as the place 
where I stood was holy ground. The Presby- 
terians were so numerous in the Valley that until 
I was nine or ten years old I hardly knew there 
were any but Presbyterians in the country. 

A sect called Tunkers — from Pennsylvania — a 
branch of the Quakers — was well represented. 
They were peaceable, good citizens, and always 
had comfortable homes. The men wore straight- 
breasted coats and broad hats, the women wore 
sunbonnets, and the girls were noted for their beau- 
tiful complexions and rosy cheeks. When a young 
man married they set him up in business, at public 
expense, and bade him God-speed on his journey. 

The Valley farmers planted orchards, and the 
very ground seemed to tremble under the weight 
of fruit. Of course apple-butter was a staple 
product, made to perfection. A visitor to the Val- 
ley from the South thus gave his experience at an 
apple-butter boiling. Late one evening he stopped 
for the night at a well-to-do home near the moun- 
tains. The young people gathered in and he saw 
there was to be a frolic of some kind. Of course 



14 MEMORY DAYS 

he mixed in with the guests, and singled out a 
pretty, black-eyed damsel as his partner. Look- 
ing into another room he saw two persons with 
long ladles stirring in a large kettle. Surely, 
thought he, they are not making soap ! After 
a while his companion said, "Let us go in and 
stir." Said he, "My pretty miss, I'd follow you 
to the ends of the earth." With a smile she 
said, "I thought the earth round, sir." "Then 
I'll follow you around the world," he retorted. 
Relieving the two workers at the kettle, his com- 
panion told him to stir for dear life and to touch 
every spot in the kettle, else it might be burned. 
Away they went around and across, and across and 
around. Soon the paddles struck and she said, 
"There now!" He thought she referred to his 
awkwardness, and tried to be more careful. Soon 
they struck again, and the little lady sang out, 
"There now!" "What do you mean?" said he. 
"La! don't you know?" she asked. "Why, no, 
tell me." "You see, when our paddles cross and 
hit, then you g-go-got to kiss me !" "Yes, my 
dear," said the Southern knight, "I'll be an apt 
scholar in this school," and he promptly gave her 
a kiss. Again the paddles hit and again he kissed 
her. 

In the social gatherings innocent games were 



VALLEY AND EASTERN VIRGINIA 1 5 

indulged In, but cards and dancing were rarely 
heard of. The first, people said, helped to make 
gamblers of the boys, and the young people were 
too loyal to their church to ''trip the light fantas- 
tic." At these gatherings all seemed to enjoy 
themselves in the highest degree. About 10 
o'clock a bountiful supper was served, no punch- 
bowl being there to tempt the young from the 
paths of temperance. At midnight the guests de- 
parted. 

In the Valley churches in those days there were 
grand old preachers. The keynote of their ser- 
mons was "Jesus and the resurrection." I remem- 
ber Brown of the Stone Church, Dabney of Tink- 
ling Spring, McFarland of Bethel, White of Lex- 
ington, and Ewing of Falling Spring. My boyish 
admiration and veneration placed these men on a 
plane higher than the average minister of to-day. 
I heard the following story told of an old minister 
against whose sanction a fiddle was brought into 
his choir. On the first Sunday he said, "Sing and 
fiddle number 6^.^^ A smile passed over the con- 
gregation. At the announcement of the second 
hymn he said, "Please fiddle and sing number 39." 
Almost a titter passed around. At the third hymn 
he said, in a high tone, "Let us sing and fiddle and 



1 6 MEMORY DAYS 

fiddle and sing number 102.'^ The fiddle was out 
of tune and never came in again. 

There were not so many slaves in the Valley as 
there were in eastern Virginia, and the masters 
were more indulgent and lenient with them. As 
a result they were very much attached to their 
homes, and nursed and petted the white children 
in those homes. They were well clad, and on Sun- 
days the "blled shirt," black suit, and white gloves 
made the darky an object of envy to his brother 
from east of the Ridge. I used to hear some of 
our darkies laugh at the "Tuckahoe nigger" for 
his peculiar expressions, such as "wheat patch" 
for wheat field, and "pig killin' " for butchering 
hogs. 

The people in the Valley were called Cohees, 
an Indian name, the signification of which I never 
heard. Education in the Valley was indicated by 
the great number of academies and "old field" 
school houses, the crowning school of all being 
Washington College at Lexington. It was the 
alma mater of some of the grandest men of the 
day. With these few remarks upon the land 
of the Shenandoah we will cross over the Blue 
Mountains and speak of people and things over 
there. 

Beginning at Jamestown in 1607, the pioneers 



VALLEY AND EASTERN VIRGINIA 1 7 

pushed Up the James River, up the Rappahannock, 
and the Rapldan from the tidewater section to the 
Piedmont country at the base of the Blue Ridge. 
The people were a little different from those in 
the Valley. These came mostly from England, 
and possessed the characteristics peculiar to the 
people of the mother land. They were high toned, 
chivalrous, and hospitable In the highest degree. 

There was an aristocratic tinge in the blood of 
the average planter, and the lines of class distinc- 
tion were sharply drawn. There was little or no 
social Intercourse between the planters and the class 
of mechanics and ordinary tradesmen. All the 
large plantations had overseers who managed the 
negroes. On some plantations there were from 
one hundred to three hundred slaves held in sub- 
jection by a rigid discipline. They were hired out 
to labor on public works or at factory plants, and 
at Christmas I used often to hear the songs of the 
hirelings as they were homeward bound, seeming 
happy and llghthearted. 

The dialect of the people seemed a little pe- 
culiar to their friends in the Valley. They used 
the word "carry" where the Cohees would say take 
or bring, thus, "Carry the horse to the rack and 
tie him up." I once heard a young gallant say 



I 8 MEMORY DAYS 

he carried a girl to church and in my innocence 
I asked if she was a little one or a big one. As 
to the origin of the name "Tuckahoe" I heard 
this : A fellow stole a hoe, and, being caught, said 
he did not steal the hoe, he only tuck it. 

Having plenty of slaves to do the work, the 
gentry indulged in hunting, fishing, and social vis- 
iting. A horse and gun were the usual equipment 
for the young man's pleasure. Fox hunting was 
a rare sport, and, as in the mother country, the 
women often joined in the sport. An invitation 
to visit was not to come to spend the day, but a 
week or more, and as the heavy carriages rolled to 
and from the splendid mansions, guests came and 
went and the halls resounded with mirth, and with 
walking, riding, hunting, cards and dancing, the 
hours fairly flew. The old Virginia reel was a 
favorite dance, and now and then a few couples 
who had fallen from grace ( !) would indulge in 
a waltz. 

The decanter was always set out for the male 
guests, and peach brandy and honey were consid- 
ered a rare combination, and though social drink- 
ing was general, drunkenness was very rare. 

In farming the crop that paid was tobacco, and 
from the sunny slopes of the Blue Ridge to the 
Eastern Shore, in season, the landscape would be 



VALLEY AND EASTERN VIRGINIA 1 9 

dotted with patches and fields of tobacco. From 
the burning of the plant-bed, in the early spring, 
to the time when the hogshead was ready to burst 
under the press, tobacco was the center of interest. 
One attraction about this so-called luxury was that 
at any time it could be exchanged for gold. The 
mule, the darky, and the tobacco field were the 
three factors in the prosperity of this section. 

Lynchburg never forgave Porte Crayon in his 
"Virginia Illustrated" for the picture of the 
"Lynchburg team," a barefooted, bareheaded ne- 
gro boy astride a hogshead of tobacco on a wagon 
drawn by a mule in front, an ox on the right and 
a horse on the left side behind, certainly a singular 
combination of forces. 

The largest religious denomination was the 
Episcopal, and it was loyal to the mother church. 
Among the stirring features in the religious life of 
the community were the camp meetings, which 
were held chiefly by the Methodists and Baptists. 
Much good was generally done at these meetings 
in reclaiming backsliders, in strengthening totter- 
ing saints, and in turning some sinners into the 
straight and narrow way. 

In that elder day one of the pets of Virginia 
was the University at Charlottesville, which, 
though belonging to the State, she specially 



20 MEMORY DAYS 

claimed as located In her borders. Montlcello, 
the home of Thomas Jefferson, was situated on a 
small mountain In sight of the University. In Its 
day It was a stately mansion. Most of the mate- 
rial for Its construction was brought from England. 
The floors of the dining-room and ballroom were 
In marble In Imitation of mosaic pavement. There 
were niches In the walls for beds, with a small 
window just above, so no need of bed-steds. In 
the cellar was a secret door opening Into a subter- 
ranean passage five feet In height, lined with brick 
and extending some three hundred yards down 
Into- the woods on the left side of the house. It 
doubtless was Intended as a means of escape If cut 
off by an enemy In front, and Jefferson himself 
came near having to use It the day Tarleton, the 
British trooper, almost captured him. He barely 
had time to mount his horse and gallop down one 
side of the mountain as the dragoons dashed up 
to the gate from the other side. From this house 
is a beautiful view of the RIvanna Valley and the 
great statesman could look down on the dome of 
the University whose foundations he had laid. In 
the library in the dome was a whispering gallery, 
a thing of great Interest to the visitor. The Uni- 
versity was patronized largely by Virginia and the 
South, and the standard was high. A band of 



VALLEY AND EASTERN VIRGINIA 21 

English scholars visiting the schools of the United 
States pronounced the course at this noted Uni- 
versity more thorough and the examinations more 
impartial than anything seen in the North. Grand 
old men filled the chairs of the University, — Gil- 
dersleeve, Harrison, McGuffey, and others, — and 
they left the impress of their work upon the school 
and gave it a high place. 

One day, Scheledevere, the professor of mod- 
ern languages, was hearing a class in Horace for 
Professor Harrison. A blunderhead of a student 
was trying to translate a portion of the ode begin- 
ning, "Erexi monumentum aeris," or, ''I have 
erected a monument of brass." The verdant youth 
translated it, "I have eaten a monument of brass!" 
Stamping his foot the Professor cried out, 
"Zounds I how did he digest it?" 

This school had on its roll of alumni a noble 
list of names; students who afterward became 
governors, senators, legislators, lawyers, and di- 
vines, all of whom as they added to the glory of 
their alma mater also made more glorious the 
name of old Virginia. 

Well does Virginia deserve the name of 
"Mother of States and Statesmen." Proud may 
she be in having given to the nation six Presidents, 
the last of whom was John Tyler. With tender 



22 MEMORY DAYS 

care does she guard and venerate the tombs where 
sleep her illustrious dead. Of course Mount Ver- 
non heads the list. Yearly thousands go to pay a 
tribute of love and admiration to the hero who 
sleeps there, and to catch an inspiration from the 
memories that cluster around his noble life. 

"In the long vista of the years to roll, 

Let me not see my country's honor fade; 
Oh ! let me see our land retain its soul : 

Her pride in Freedom, and not Freedom's shade." 

— Keats. 



CHAPTER II 

CRYSTAL SPRING 

"More limpid water can no fountain show, 
A fairer bottom or a smoother brow; 
A painted world its peaceful gleam contains. 
The heavenly arch, the bordering groves and plains." 

"Jerusalem ! how tempiis does fugit'^ exclaimed 
an Impatient old man who, in a bustle one day, 
tried to quote the old Latin motto. Yes, Time 
does fly. The present is but a moment, the mighty 
past is behind us, and the untried future stretches 
away before us. Hope gives a tinting to its sky, 
and we press on eager to taste new joys. Yet, 
there are pictures in the past upon which we love 
to gaze. And sitting all alone in my chamber this 
morning, memory is calling up other days and 
other scenes. Voices from the past seem to whis- 
per to me, and hands that I once clasped are beck- 
oning me to come back to the fields of boyhood. 
And I go back to the home of my boyhood and 
stand by the spring at the foot of the hill, under- 
neath the widespreading willows. I take the old 
gourd and drink again of the cool, sparkling water. 
And as I drink there comes into my mind the 



24 MEMORY DAYS 

words of that beautiful poem by Samuel Wood- 
worth, whose refrain is, 

"The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, 
The moss-covered bucket that hung in the well." 

The refreshing draught sends a thrill of life- 
giving vigor through my body, and none other has 
ever tasted sweeter. It has the same gurgling 
sound as it gushes forth, a strong stream from 
its subterranean source. The pebbles still glisten 
on its bottom and the crimson willow roots still 
fringe its banks. 

Thence memory leads me to another gushing 
fountain, under the old sycamore tree, where I 
used to slake my thirst when the flush of school- 
boy play was upon my cheeks. 

Few there are who do not enjoy a retrospective 
view of their school days. Amid the hurry and 
bustle of business life it is pleasant to pause and 
look back to those good old days when, free from 
care, we bounded over the hills and reveled in the 
sports of childhood. Watch the gray-haired man 
as he talks of his own school-boy days and see his 
eye kindle and his face beam with animation as he 
lives over those happy hours ! Grandmother, as 
she sits in her easy chair in the corner, will smile 
as she tells the listening children of well-remem- 



CRYSTAL SPRING 25 

bered scenes in her youth; how Jamie admired 
her curls and the choice June apple that Charlie 
saved for her! 

Yes, from those dear old scenes there comes 
floating down tO' us, across the waste of years, a 
fragrance that life, since then, has never given us. 
The music of childhood will continue to echo in 
our hearts until the strings are touched by the 
hand of death. 

Come, now, with me and I will take you to a 
noted spring by the old schoolhouse under the 
shadow of the Blue Ridge in old Virginia, where, 
years ago, I took my first step along the great 
highway of learning. 

We are standing on the south bank of the James 
River in Rockbridge County and looking tO' the 
southwest. We see Arnold's Valley extending 
several miles, reposing as a beautiful bride in the 
arms of the great mountain barriers. On the east 
we look upon the lofty summits of the Blue Ridge 
crowned with cedar and pine, except where here 
and there white cliffs rear their giant forms. On 
the south stands, in sullen majesty, old Thunder 
Hill, so called because, owing to its great height, 
storms wrap the summit in clouds, lightnings en- 
circle it, and peals of thunder shake its very crest. 

On the west. Little Mountain, in graceful 



26 MEMORY DAYS 

curves, runs up from the river, over whose oak- 
covered sides the evening shadows play, and whose 
top is gilded with the parting rays of the sun as 
he takes leave of this beautiful valley. 

We will follow the course of Otter Creek, a 
small stream rising in the dark shadow of some 
mountain hollow and running through the valley. 
Its waters are clear as crystal, and along Its banks 
stand stately sycamores, and the willows bend to 
kiss the limpid waters as they glide by. Here and 
there are holes in which trout are darting to and 
fro. Now we pass the swimming-pool under the 
cliff, in which, during the warm days of summer, 
juveniles of various ages and colors cool their 
limbs and exercise their muscles. After a pleas- 
ant walk of a mile and a half we come to a fine 
spring gushing out from under a sycamore only 
a few steps from the creek. We drink, and the 
cool freestone water Is so refreshing! Along the 
terraced bank and on the plateau extending be- 
yond stand In all their primeval beauty the oak, 
the hickory, the cedar, and the poplar, forming a 
grove In which the fabled satyrs and graceful 
nymphs might delight to dwell. 

We throw ourselves on the grassy bank, and the 
rippling waters and the singing birds make for us 



CRYSTAL SPRING 27 

a music that Is In keeping with this woodland 
scene. 

Yonder come two horsemen — Dr. Watson, our 
family physician, and a visiting friend. Dismount- 
ing, they drink of the spring from the old weather- 
beaten gourd, and join us on the bank. Says the 
friend, "I never drank cooler, sweeter water, nor 
saw a finer spring. It must have a pretty name." 
"We call It Crystal Spring," said the Doctor, ''and 
It Is the pride of our little valley. Clearer, purer 
water does not gush from the mountains. Just 
look Into It again." Standing by the bank the vis- 
itor looks down upon the pebbles that stud Its bot- 
tom, and then upon Its waters, as purling over the 
smooth stones they hasten to mingle with those of 
the creek, "Surely," he says, "this Is a splendid 
spring. Perhaps It Is a jet from the old Spaniard's 
Fountain of Youth." "There Is a legend con- 
nected with Its name," says the Doctor. "Tell It, 
tell It!" comes a general chorus. The Doctor be- 
gins: 

"Many years ago a tribe of Indians encamped 
on the plateau up there and used the grand hunt- 
ing-grounds In this valley. In the open space 
yonder they had their dances and sang their songs. 
The daughter of the chief was a beautiful maiden 
of whom he was very proud. She was loved by 



28 MEMORY DAYS 

a young brave of a hostile tribe beyond the moun- 
tains, and every month in the light of the moon 
he came to visit the lovely princess of the forest. 
In the still hours of the night as the moon was 
sinking and the shadows around the spring were 
deep these devoted lovers met here. Then, as 
dawn began to make rosy the eastern sky, he stole 
away to a mountain ravine to wait for the shades 
of another night and she to her wigwam to dream 
of her ideal warrior and hunter. 

"As a pledge of his love and also as a charm 
he had given her a gem clear as crystal which one 
of his ancestors had brought from beyond the Fa- 
ther of Waters, and she wore this jewel on her 
string of beads around her neck. Now a young 
brave from her own tribe also loved the maiden, 
but she told him she loved another. Bitter jeal- 
ousy sprang up in his heart. He saw the jewel 
sparkle on her neck, and knew it told of his rival's 
love. Following her to the spring in the twilight 
hour, he told her he was going to get the cursed 
stone and crush it to powder. Seizing her in his 
arms he snatched the prized gift from her neck. 
In her desperation she caught his hand and grasped 
the jewel, which she threw behind them into the 
spring. He plunged his hand into the water after 
it, when, lo! it had dissolved, and gave to the 



CRYSTAL SPRING 29 

waters their sparkle and beauty. Hence it got the 
name of Crystal Spring." 

"That is a beautiful legend," said the visitor. 
*'I like to hear the stories handed down to us by 
the Indians." 

"Here is a grand social rallying point in the way 
of picnics," continued the Doctor. "Could some 
of these trees talk they might tell many tender 
words which some Romeo poured into the willing 
ear of some Juliet. Here the hunters meet after 
the chase, and mixing, in the ratio of 3 to i, the 
fiery contents of a flask with the pure water, they 
have a combination called 'grog,' said to be very 
palatable by the above mentioned sportsmen." 

The long shadows bid us depart. As we stand 
for a moment, a squirrel and his mate, in search of 
their evening meal, come hopping down to the edge 
of the bank, and, seeing the intruders, scamper 
back to their holes. One more drink and we 
slowly take leave of this spring over which hangs 
the charm of romance and around which are so 
many touches of beauty. 



CHAPTER III 

THE OLD HOME 

"Home, sweet home, 
Name ever dear to me, 
I love that dear old home." 

— Bailey. 

There Is a song whose chorus finds an echo in 
the heart of every loyal son of the Old Dominion. 
It is sung not only on the Eastern Shore, where the 
blue Atlantic kisses the cheek of the dear old 
mother, but it rolls back over green field and 
wooded hill to the highlands, and is caught up by 
the dwellers under the shadows of the glorious 
mountains. And, when far from the borders of 
the mother-land one of her children hears the 
music, 

"Oh carry me back to old Virginny, 
To old Virginny's shore," 

then his heart warms with love, and he longs to re- 
turn. 

My cradle was rocked at the foot of the Blue 
Ridge, near Lexington, In the Valley of Virginia. 
The mountain breezes were healthy, the springs 



THE OLD HOME 3 1 

that gushed from the hills were pure and delicious, 
and there boys grew strong and vigorous. 

Let me be a barefooted boy again, back at the 
old home, and tell you something of its life and sur- 
roundings. In the quiet of a spring evening I am 
standing on Quarry Hill, looking down upon my 
home, and then upon the beautiful landscape that, 
with all its varied beauty, stretches away toward 
the Alleghanies. Mountains are on every side en- 
closing the valley of the James. Yonder comes 
this river winding in graceful curves, its banks 
fringed with living green, and the sun reflecting on 
its smooth surface a dazzling silver sheen. The 
evening breeze is laden with the perfume of apple 
blossoms from the orchard at the foot of the hill; 
and the sun, nearing the western horizon, is flood- 
ing with gold the beautiful scene. From the pas- 
ture, in slow procession, the cattle are winding their 
homeward way, and from the hillside comes the 
tinkling of sheep bells. Yonder, in a field tO' the 
left, standing in a row, are six cherry trees arrayed 
in their white blossoms. It makes me long for 
cherries just to look at them, yet, I remember on 
one or two occasions when, having sampled the 
fruit too early, I was much distressed and was 
bowed in pain and sorrow until my good mother 



32 MEMORY DAYS 

administered relief from her medicinal stores and 
made me happy again. 

I look down upon the home, and though it is 
plain in architecture it is beautiful to me. The 
smoke is curling up from the kitchen chimney, sug- 
gestive to the hungry boy of the evening meal. 
There is the garden by whose walks are beds of 
thyme and the old-fashioned pinks which I love to 
smell. In the yard stand six Lombardy poplars, 
tall, graceful and aristocratic, looking down on 
their neighbors. I remember once, when a stray 
squirrel took refuge in one of them, the only gun at 
hand was an old flint-lock shotgun, a gun about as 
dangerous behind as before. An Englishman 
offered to aim at the squirrel, and as the flint would 
not ignite the powder in the pan, Uncle Humphrey, 
a negro, was to touch it off with a stick burning at 
one end. "Ready!" cried the gunner, and bang! 
went the gun. The squirrel looked down and 
smiled on the battlefield below. The gun lay on 
the ground in one place, the Englishman lay on his 
back in another, and the darky was in full retreat! 

With Trip, my faithful dog, I come down the 
hill by the old chestnut tree giving promise of rich 
fruit when, in October, the frost with its snowy 
fingers shall open the burs, on by the chinquapin 
bush and the cluster of papaws, all friends of mine. 



THE OLD HOME 33 

The persimmon tree calls to my mind the dark day 
when, tasting its fruit unwisely, my lips for a time 
contracted so as to advertise me as a natural whis- 
tler! On I go to the spring-house, the rallying 
place at milking time for the juveniles, white and 
black. Whilst the milkmaids are busy, and mother 
attends to her dairy work, we little fellows have a 
picnic riding on low willow limbs, or wading in the 
branch. Oh, but those were happy days! Give 
me the farm life for the boy. In our home we 
were taught practically the Fifth Commandment. 
We never questioned, except in a limited way, the 
authority and wisdom of our parents. Original sin 
always brings forth some of its fruits, and now and 
then some of us little folks had Solomon's doctrine 
on training up a boy gently instilled into our minds 
and laid upon our backs. Learning how Solomon 
acted when he was older, I concluded that he did 
not get enough of the rod when he was a youngster. 
We were taught to love the Bible and mother 
would tell us stories from it and have us memorize 
short verses. Morning and evening we heard it 
read as we gathered around the family altar. 
When old enough we were taken to church, seven 
miles distant, across a river and over a mountain. 
We earned our devotions. We learned to love our 
3 



34 MEMORY DAYS 

pastor, Rev. Jno. D. Ewing, and were delighted 
when he would come to our house to spend the 
night. 

Life In the old home was spiced with Innocent 
pranks and pleasing episodes. A common expres- 
sion learned from the negroes, referring, of course, 
to the night-time, was, ''The black thing will catch 
you!" What the "Thing" was we hadn't the 
faintest conception, but whether It was Satan or a 
bear, we dreaded the meeting! One night, as my 
younger brother. In a dimly lighted room, was 
getting Into a linen garment, just as he stood with 
hands extended above his head, I, who was safe In 
the bed, cried out, "Look, look! Black Thing is 
coming after you!" Rip, rip! went the garment. 
"Oh my! oh my!" wailed my brother, and Zip, 
bum! came the boy rolling Into bed, tucking his 
head well under the cover. The next morning, 
when mother surveyed the wreck, I made one of 
the narrow escapes of my life, and heaved a sigh 
of relief to think what might have been. 

In the cool of the summer evenings after supper 
the sports on the lawn were exciting and exhilar- 
ating. In my play with toads I am afraid I bor- 
dered on cruelty to animals. The toad Is afraid of 
a black snake, as the black snake will swallow the 
jumper without any apology. I would get an old 



THE OLD HOME 35 

crooked black root, with a snaky look, and run it 
along on the ground after the toad, which fearing 
its minutes were numbered, would jump for dear 
life ! Away we would go, until finally the toad, 
from sheer exhaustion, would just fall over and lie 
still, resigned to his fate. I have long since re- 
pented of that sin, and hope I have been forgiven. 

Our social intercourse was free and pleasant. 
"Bring your knitting and spend the day" was an 
invitation often accepted, and the ladies would sit 
and talk and knit, and knit and talk. The subjects 
discussed were various, including babies, gardens, 
chickens, weddings, the school, the preacher, and 
the church. 

With the machinery of the kitchen in good run- 
ning order, cook and assistants, the hostess did not 
get nervous over the sudden advent of "quality," 
as our cook called the guests. Spending an eve- 
ning was customary, and to me the climax of the 
event was the good supper, when we had hot bis- 
cuit, chicken gravy, preserves, and such good 
things. The boy has to eat tO' live, but he often 
lives to eat. Very early I became partial to a little 
cousin, a graceful little girl with dark brown eyes 
and pretty curls. When Cousin Jennie, our 
nearest neighbor, was among the guests, I enjoyed 
the visit "lots more." She was lively, but not 



26 MEMORY DAYS 

noisy, playful but not rude, with nice manners and 
a good disposition, and I "just liked her all the 
time." 

On the list of my childhood friends were the 
pickaninnies, as happy a little tribe as ever basked 
in the sunshine. Their summer clothing consisting 
of a single garment, they got the full benefit of the 
passing breeze, and a small stream was no obstacle 
in their path, for they simply waded it. "Little 
Marster" was captain of this company of dusky 
hue, but generally ruled In kindness, as the little 
darkies shared in his sports and added to his pleas- 
ures. Troubles in the ranks which the captain 
could not settle were referred to a higher tribunal 
and quieted in short order. 

Ah! but I well remember the old clock as it 
stood in the corner ticking off the seconds. My 
grandfather brought It from Scotland and it was a 
treasured heirloom. It was an eight-day time- 
measurer, towering up to the celling, and with 
weights I could not lift. There was an attachment 
showing the phases of the moon, which was more 
wonderful to me than the movements of the hands. 
"Tick-tock, tick-tock," went the pendulum, never 
tiring, never ceasing, or, as Longfellow writes: 



THE OLD HOME 37 

"By day its voice is low and light; 
But in the silent dead of night, 
Distinct as a passing footstep's fall, 
It echoes along the vacant hall, 
Along the ceiling, along the floor. 
And seems to say at each chamber door, — 

'Forever — never 

Never — forever' !" 

Thus the surroundings of my old home were 
such as made young life pleasant and better. It 
was my little world, and to me it seemed para- 
dise, and my home in many respects was typical of 
many others in the community. 



CHAPTER IV 

CRYSTAL SPRING SEMINARY 

'"Tis education forms the common mind: 
Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined." 

—Pope. 

On a bright morning in the spring of 1848 two 
men were standing on the plateau just above the 
beautiful Crystal Spring. In their veins flowed 
the old Scotch-Irish blood that made the sturdy 
character of the men over whose cabins the smoke 
first curled along the banks of the Shenandoah, 
and whose descendants have made that grand old 
valley bloom and blossom as the rose. 

One of these men was my father, the other his 
cousin and neighbor. They had been in earnest 
conversation about education and schools for the 
children. The object of their visit was the loca- 
tion of a school building. They spoke of the new- 
generation coming on, represented in the curly 
heads and bright eyes in their homes, and expressed 
a desire to give them better educational advantages 
than they themselves had enjoyed when they were 
boys. For In their boyhood days the average 
country school extended only through the winter, 



CRYSTAL SPRING SEMINARY 39 

and during the remaining months of the year the 
muscle of the boys was cultivated in the practice of 
athletics upon the farm. 

My cousin was a man of good mental capacity, 
and by reading and observation he had acquired a 
large fund of information. Said he to my father, 

"Cousin Preston, you know we have felt the 
need of more schooling in our lives, and we ought 
to give our children all the advantages we possibly 
can offer them." 

"Yes, Squire," replied my father, "you are right. 
What we give them in this line can't be stolen 
from them. It will be a treasure they always can 
claim as their own." 

"We want to establish a school here," continued 
Cousin William, "that will make scholars of our 
girls and boys; not an old-field establishment like 
the ones we used tO' attend. Of course we will 
have to begin at the foundation and build up ; but 
let us aim at a cap-stone that will be beautifully 
carved and polished." 

"Squire, I admire your zeal in the matter. 
Right here is the best location, as our river chaps 
can come, and we will gather in the Valley children 
too." 

"This location is excellent," Cousin William re- 
plied; "central, yet retired; the birds and squir- 



40 MEMORY DAYS 

rels in these woods will teach the pupils nothing 
bad, and the spring and creek will add to comfort 
and cleanliness. You know a very desirable com- 
bination is a small boy, a cake of soap, and plenty 
of water!" 

And, in the spirit of self-reliance, and follow- 
ing the custom of utilizing home products so preva- 
lent in those good old days, these two leading 
spirits in the enterprise decided to build the house 
with their own resources. 

There was an independence in the simple life of 
the Valley farmers of those days that we do not 
see practiced now. The winter clothing came 
from the flock of sheep that grazed along the hill- 
sides, and the flax-patch furnished the cool summer 
garments. The music of the spinning-wheel and 
the clatter of the weaver's shuttle were heard in 
those homes, and told of thrift and economy. All 
the shoes for every-day wear were made from the 
hides of home-raised cattle. Living thus, at the 
end of the year the farmers owed no man anything. 

So, taking their tools, and some negro hands, 
they met at Crystal Spring and the work began on 
the schoolhouse. The woods rang with the axes, 
trees fell, logs were hewn, the foundation was laid, 
and the walls arose In due time. It was built on 
the plateau about fifty yards from the spring, on 



CRYSTAL SPRING SEMINARY 4I 

the south side of the creek. Of course in architec- 
tural plan and finish it did not resemble the modem 
structure with its comfortable and handsome equip- 
ments. Its walls were of hewn logs, the cracks 
between being stopped with mortar. A chimney 
whose heating capacity was measured by a cart 
load of wood, stood at one end. The entrance 
door was on the south side and there was another 
opposite. A window on the right of the front 
door lighted up the sacred precincts of the teach- 
er's chair, whilst one eighteen inches in height ex- 
tended across the entire west end. Along this was 
placed the writing-bench, as it was called, a wide 
board inclined from the wall and a bench to suit 
the height. Around the walls were benches with- 
out backs, whilst a few benches sitting across the 
floor had the luxury of backs. The house was 
covered with clap-boards, and with its wooden 
chimney was a very dignified-looking structure 
for educational purposes in those days. 

Nestled under the overshadowing branches of 
those grand old trees it was protected from the 
summer sun and screened from the full sweep of 
the wintry blasts. 

The last nail was driven in the roof, the door 
latch and string were satisfactorily adjusted, and 
the work was pronounced good. 



42 MEMORY DAYS 

Uncle Aleck, the negro "boss workman," as he 
styled himself, was the head man on my Cousin 
William's farm, and Uncle Aleck felt highly hon- 
ored In having been selected for the work at Crys- 
tal Spring. He was a character In whom Dickens 
would have rejoiced. Being versed In theological 
questions so as to point his flock, on Sabbath morn- 
ings, toward the better land, and also to marry 
negro couples, he was held in high esteem by his 
"brederin." I remember him as a high-toned 
negro, and there were no suspicions of fondness for 
visiting chicken roosts ever attached to his name. 
His manner was pompous, yet respectful, and his 
penchant for using big and meaningless words 
made him an amusing character to his white 
friends. He was especially popular with the 
younger generation, as he was very courteous and 
obliging to us on all occasions. 

Uncle Humphrey, our old family servant, was 
also one of the workmen on the schoolhouse. He 
also stands out as a conspicuous negro character of 
that day, honest and trustworthy to a high degree. 
He, too, was a churchman, a deacon, and he led 
in prayer-meetings; he also tackled questions of 
church finance and decided knotty points of disci- 
pline among the erring members. 

Uncle Aleck, standing with arms akimbo, gazed 



CRYSTAL SPRING SEMINARY '43 

with admiration at the finished schoolhouse, and 
said, "I tell you, Marse Preston, dat house is hard 
to beat. She Is fine fur de children to 'losophize 
in." 

''Yas," assented Uncle Humphrey, "you Is 
mighty right, 'Bauzzee'; dey can learn till their 
little heads nearly bust." 

Then, at the suggestion of my cousin, I think, 
the house was honored with the very euphonious 
name of "Crystal Spring Seminary." 

Little did those dear old men think, as they 
talked and laughed over the name, that some of 
the little flaxen-headed boys who then entered those 
plain walls with the old "Blue-back Speller" in one 
hand and the more interesting lunch basket In the 
other, in a few years, on those same benches, would 
be translating Cicero's Orations, reading Xeno- 
phon's Anabasis, and demonstrating geometry on 
the blackboard ! 



CHAPTER V 

SCHOOL BEGINS 

"Letters admit not of a half renown; 
They give you nothing, or they give a crown; 
No work e'er gained true fame or ever can, 
But what did honor to the name of man." 

— Yotcng. 

The next term Crystal Spring Seminary needed 
a guiding spirit. In those days a few of the lead- 
ing families of our neighborhood would select a 
suitable teacher, guaranteeing him a certain salary, 
with all extra pupils he could get, and this "king 
of the birchen sceptre" would "board around'' 
free amongst the leading patrons. There was 
always a flutter in the home when the teacher was 
introduced as a boarder. The juveniles were, for 
a time at least, on their better behavior, and the 
"small boy" smacked his lips In view of an Im- 
provement In the bill of fare. Peach preserves for 
supper, and chicken gravy for breakfast, were lux- 
uries not found in his every-day life, and, desiring 
to be "on the good side" of the pedagogue, he was 
very attentive and communicative, often to the 
point of being Invited elsewhere — especially when 
the young teacher and "Big Siss" were getting 



SCHOOL BEGINS 45 

better acquainted in the parlor. On one occasion, 
I remember, he bounded Into the august presence 
of the new pedagogue, shouting, "Chicken for 
dinner ! Done killed de old rooster !" On another 
occasion "SIss" unfortunately tried to tease little 
Johnnie about a wee maiden with sunny ringlets. 
Equal to the emergency, he retorted, "I know who 
your sweetheart is!" "Who is he?" asked the 
young pedagogue, upon whom the flash of sister's 
dark eyes were having an electric power. "Why 
Bill Saunders; he brings SIss candy!" The girl, 
seeing the net in which she was being caught, sug- 
gested that Johnnie's mother wanted him. But the 
youngster was going to win. "I know you love 
him too," he said. "Hush!" cried SIss. "Tell 
us," eagerly put in the new Romeo. "Why does 
she love him? How can you tell?" "Why, 
'cause you set so close to him !" Whereupon 
Johnnie was led out of the room and SIss, whose 
cheeks were glowing, explained the situation to 
mother. Whereupon a visit was paid to the peach 
tree, and the solo, as It floated upon the evening 
air, told that the "small boy" repented too late. 

Then the lunch-basket from the home in which 
the teacher, for the time, was abiding had some 
extra touches given to its appearance ; and the part- 
ing injunction from the good mother was, "Be sure 



46 MEMORY DAYS 

and take the basket to the teacher first/^ Even 
now I can see the chicken, cakes, half-moon pies 
and other tempting morsels that were drawn from 
the depths of the old basket when the teacher un- 
folded the snowy linen. 

In selecting a teacher there were some funda- 
mental qualities to be possessed by the applicant. 
The average teacher was not only required to be 
good in the elementary branches of English, but he 
must be able to write a fair, round hand, and make 
a good pen out of a goose quill, also have no 
scruples about using the rod. 

Such qualities for training "the young idea" our 
fathers found, on this occasion, centered in Miss 
Rachel P. or "Aunt Rachel," as she was called by 
all the young people of the neighborhood. She 
was a lady of high-toned Christian character, who 
in other sections of the county had won quite a 
reputation as queen in the realm of the birchen 
sceptre. We heard that in her last school she had 
young women and young men as pupils, and that 
fact raised her very high in our childish estimation. 
Aunt Rachel had a reputation for drilling her 
pupils in spelling and the multiplication table, also 
for teaching them good manners. We heard it 
whispered that there was a lively time when she 
introduced the delinquent urchin, with pants rolled 



SCHOOL BEGINS 47 

up, to "Mr. Birch." And we afterward found 
out, both by an experimental course and by the 
more interesting proof of observation, that on 
such occasions the "small boy" imitated a first- 
class acrobat, and that he also showed some talent 
for vocal music. 

Well, Aunt Rachel was engaged to teach, and 
the day appointed for opening school was one 
Monday in May. I remember well that Monday, 
a bright, beautiful day. Never having been to 
school I looked forward to the beginning with the 
deepest interest, feeling that I was about to step 
into a wider sphere. I arose earlier that morning 
than usual, and it was one of the proudest mo- 
ments of my life when, taking my speller and 
reader, I bade my mother good-bye, and with my 
older sister trudged off to be enrolled as a pupil of 
Crystal Spring Seminary. 

The distance from my home was two and a half 
miles. In good weather I always walked, and my 
little sisters, who attended the Seminary later, also 
walked. Yet now we often find parents object- 
ing to haying a strapping, big boy of twelve years 
walk a mile to school ! I verily believe the aver- 
age boy of to-day is by no means so vigorous either 
in mind or body as the boys of that day. Well, 
on that Monday morning when I got to the school- 



48 MEMORY DAYS 

house quite a number of pupils were there waiting 
for the teacher. It was a purely democratic as- 
semblage, the boy from the mountain-side feeling 
his importance in the race for education as much as 
the boy from the river home. In the time that 
elapsed before we were called in, I began to form 
some acquaintances. I was about eight years of 
age, the youngest boy in the crowd. A boy with 
only one suspender and a red head attracted my 
attention, and I had an idea that it would be pru- 
dent to be his friend. A big mountain boy excited 
my admiration by telling how he knocked a squirrel 
out of an oak tree, with a rock, before breakfast 
that morning. I wondered why a young woman 
as large as my mother should be coming to school. 
Then the strange little girl with the red dress on 
was not near so pretty as my Cousin Jennie. 

"Get you a drink and come in," called out Aunt 
Rachel from the door. Away we ran down to the 
spring. The creek, with visions of wading and 
trout catching, so engaged the attention of a few 
of us that we came near being tardy the first morn- 
ing. Aunt Rachel's opening speech was short 
and to the point. "I want you all to be good chil- 
dren and study your lessons well." This covered 
the whole ground. Then, beginning on her 
right, she called each pupil to her and assigned 



SCHOOL BEGINS 49 

some lesson. There was but little classification, 
as few had books alike, though the Blue-back 
Speller was In the ascendency. There were readers 
of every color and description, from the old 
"North American" to the New Testament. Soon 
the buzzing sound of the preparation of lessons 
filled the room, and the first day's work In our new 
schoolhouse was begun. 



CHAPTER VI 

A DAY IN SCHOOL 

"A little learning is a dangerous thing. 
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring." 

—Pope. 

Our school had been running along for some 
time, and the machinery was well oiled and every- 
thing in good working order. We fully realized 
that Aunt Rachel was mistress, and when she dis- 
ciplined us we knew we needed it. 

Take an average day at the Crystal Spring Semi- 
nary. The September sun has risen but little 
above the crest of the Blue Ridge, and we are on 
our way to school. Our desire to be early is not so 
much anxiety about lessons as to have time to wade 
in the creek, catch crawfish, or play "Base" in the 
grove. 

"Yonder comes Aunt Rachel!" sings out a little 
girl whose keen eyes have caught sight of old 
Swan's white figure amid the distant trees. Many 
heads are thrust out of the door, and those who 
were playing stop to look for this important 
arrival. 

The time to open school comes, and our teacher 



A DAY IN SCHOOL 51 

calls out from the door, ''Books F^ It Is caught 
up by the nearest, then repeated by those farther 
off, until the old grove echoes, "Books, books!" 
The bustle of entering, getting seated and ready 
for work is soon over. Aunt Rachel, from her 
chair of state, surveys the field, adjusts her spec- 
tacles, and says, "Now, get to your lessons." 
The "tasks," as the night lessons were called, come 
first. A class in "spelling on the book" is called 
up, the lesson beginning with the word "ba-ker." 
Down the line they go, spelling in turn, until a tow- 
head pauses at "p-o-n-y." "What does it spell?" 
asks Aunt Rachel. "Dun' know," replies the 
urchin, rolling the whites of his eyes toward the 
ceiling. As a suggestive idea. Aunt Rachel says, 
"What does the little boy ride on?" His face 
brightens and he pipes out, "P-o-n-y; saddle." 

"Kee hee !" giggled the little girl by his side. 

"It spells 'pony' ^' says Aunt Rachel, and im- 
presses the fact upon his mind by a ringing thump 
on his head. 

Next a class of two in primary geography comes 
to the front. They are just beginning, and the 
question, "What is a volcano?" comes to lazy Dick. 
He looks unutterable things toward the wall and 
is silent. 

"Next," and little Jane blushes and hangs her 



52 MEMORY DAYS 

head. Turning the page of the book, containing a 
picture of a volcano, toward the class, the teacher 
says, "Now, can you tell me?" "Yes 'um," said 
Dick, "I know now. It's a mountain what 
shoots!" Soon another question is missed by the 
class. Forbearance ceases to be a virtue and the 
sentence is pronounced, "Get this lesson over at 
play time!" Other "tasks" are heard, some 
pupils doing fairly well, and others making wild 
shots. A larger class in English grammar is up. 
Fanny Tolley reads her sentence and parses it all 
nicely, receiving the pleasing comment, "Well 
done!" By the way, Fanny is the model girl of 
the school, to whom others are pointed as worthy 
of their imitation. Next, Frank Reynolds, a 
rather precocious but lazy boy, reads, "The horse 
and cow are in the lot." Being asked to parse 
"cow," he rattles off, "Cow is a neuter noun, posi- 
tive degree, first person, and — " "Hold on," 
says the teacher. "What are you driving at?" 
"I'm driving at the cow!^ replies Frank. "Take 
your seat and see If your grammar teaches you to 
parse this way." He does not look happy. 

Meanwhile, those who are not reciting are study- 
ing. We are permitted to study aloud, and, under 
the screen of the buzzing sound, many a whispered 
word is spoken and many a prank is played. Here 



A DAY IN SCHOOL 53 

is one little fellow working away faithfully over a 
reading-lesson. On a bench opposite some of the 
larger girls are working their "sums" in arithmetic. 
Pike was the ideal book in this study, a grum, un- 
attractive looking work. Generally we see the 
boys and girls sitting together; but on yonder 
bench a few little damsels are sitting all alone, no 
doubt acting upon the advice of prudent mamas. 
Aunt Rachel does not seem to anticipate any dam- 
aging effects from Cupid's darts when discharged 
at random. There, at the intersection of two 
benches, a boy and girl are having a nice tete-a-tete. 
Just in front of the teacher's chair two flaxen- 
headed chaps are looking Intently at their books, 
pretending to be absorbed in their lessons, but the 
tones of their voices Indicate the planning of an 
apple-tree hunt after school. About one-half are 
really studying, the other half are only half work- 
ing. The hours In the school-room do grow 
long, and it is hard to be busy all the time. Now 
my attention Is directed to a Valley youngster who 
Is giving Cousin Jennie a red peach. She looks so 
pleased that I wonder which she likes the better, 
the boy or the peach. I think, however, the fruit 
will be more palatable, for he Is an ugly boy. 

"Ouch!" ejaculates a boy on the left. "Aunt 
Rachel, Bob Tygart stuck a pin in me I" 



54 MEMORY DAYS 

"Come up here, Bob." The culprit, a red- 
headed, loose-jointed boy, moves slowly up to the 
bar. "Did you stick Thomas?" 

"Yes 'um." 

"Why did you doit?" 

" 'Cause I wanted to see him jump !" 

"I'll make you jump, sir." Pie jumped! 

"Thus, once and awhile, the monotony of the 
room is broken into, in a way rather interesting to 
all except the active participants. 

The time for examining the slates has come. In 
written arithmetic there are no classes ; each pupil 
works along as fast as individual capacity and ap- 
plication permit. When the slate is full of "sums" 
there is a rest until these are inspected. This in- 
spection time has now come. "Bring up your 
slates" is the order from headquarters. There- 
upon they form a solid wall of slates around the 
chair. Aunt Rachel takes one at a time and looks 
over the work, the pupil explaining what was to be 
done. With the aid of a key to old Pike, Aunt 
Rachel more readily detects errors. If a "sum" is 
wrong, a line is drawn across it and it has to be re- 
worked. This is a tedious exercise, and behind 
the barrier thus formed many a bit of drama is 
enacted. 

Running out from one side of the door, about 



A DAY IN SCHOOL ^^ 

two feet, there Is a mark cut In the floor. About 
this time of day many wistful glances are directed 
thereto. It Is the twelve o'clock mark. This Is 
for the benefit of teachers who can not indulge In 
the possession of a watch, but Aunt Rachel has one. 
On a sunny day the mark tells the meridian time, 
but when cloudy the teacher who has no watch has 
to calculate by the number of lessons certain classes 
have said. The appetite of the small boy Is get- 
ting rather acute and he Is beginning to speculate 
on the contents of his basket which hangs on the 
peg In the wall. Although much Interested In the 
quality of the contents, he Is really more concerned 
In regard to the quantity. 

The last slate Is examined, and Aunt Rachel 
pauses In her work. She looks at the mark, then 
at her watch, to be doubly sure, and Issues the gen- 
eral proclamation, "Get your spelling lessons." 

This Is the last act of the morning session. 
Spelling books and dictionaries are brought forth, 
and such a babel of tongues ! It Is a time when all, 
both the studious and the Idle, join In common 
work. To be so near the dinner basket, and then 
to be "kept In," Is terrible to think of! All study 
the lessons aloud. If so desire, and the lazy boy 
makes up for his real Interest In the work by the 
higher key on which his voice Is pitched. From 



^6 MEMORY DAYS 

"ba-be-bl,'* etc., up to "jux-ta-po-si-tion," there Is a 
grand concert of voices, every note in the gamut 
being struck, yet, to a musical ear, it is a most in- 
harmonious whole. During this jubilee of sound 
and work Aunt Rachel is not Idle. The latest re- 
cruit to- the primary ranks stands by her chair and 
labors in distinguishing c from e. 

The spelling begins. The smaller classes have 
spelled and taken their seats by the wall to clear the 
floor for the largest class to "spell by plank." All 
stand in line, on a plank near the opposite side of 
the room. As each pupil spells a word correctly, a 
step is taken to the next plank in the direction of 
the chair. The one who misses a word stands still. 
There is a novelty about it that interests us little 
fellows in the performance. Soon the line is 
broken, some lagging on the rear planks. Now 
and then a boy, several planks in the rear, will 
steal up a plank, knowing that he is in danger of 
the delinquents' corner at recess. 

The last plank has been reached by only two or 
three and the lesson is over. Then, with bated 
breath, we wait for the final order. "Get your 
dinners," says Aunt Rachel, and there is a hubbub 
exceeding the clatter of the spelling concert. 
Lazy Dick and idle Tommie now do good work, 
displaying a wonderful capacity for imbibing not 
the ideal, but the substantial things of life. 



A DAY IN SCHOOL 57 

All in the room, however, are not happy. From 
the corner in which sit the delinquents in spelling 
and geography woeful glances are cast at the merry 
groups elsewhere. 

Lunch devoured, the spring visited, then com- 
mences the playing. Boys and girls have separate 
grounds and different sports. Aunt Rachel is not 
afraid of Cupid indoors, but is suspicious of him 
in the shady grove. 

"Prisoners' base" is the game for the boys, and 
being equally divided the first "dare" is given. 
Here we go, forward and back, round and about, 
until the end of the first skirmish reveals several 
prisoners on either side. Then, when some swift 
runner goes around the other base and releases all 
the prisoners he is cheered as a hero. Tired of 
this, "I spy" is proposed. Jake Rhodes hides his 
eyes and begins to count two hundred. Away we 
run, some behind the big trees, some climb into the 
dense cedars, and others leap over the high banks. 
"Two hundred! All ready?" cries Jake, as 
from the base he cautiously surveys the landscape 
on every side. He then circles around the base 
with a wider and wider radius. From the oppo- 
site side the sound of pattering feet strikes his ear, 
and to his mortification he sees two boys run in. 
More on the alert, he watches every tree and 



58 MEMORY DAYS 

corner. "I spy Will Price !" he cries, and comes 
tO' base at full speed. Few run in ahead of Jake. 
The sympathy of the boys seems always for the 
hiding ones, and in the race for the base they 
cheer them on. All have come in except George 
Morris, a fleet-footed boy. Jake has extended his 
circle of inspection to the extreme limits. All is 
excitement now to see who' wins. From the west 
end of the grove comes Jake's cry of "I spy, I 
spy!" and here they come, just a-flying! George 
is gaining, and around the base the excitement is at 
fever heat. Twenty boys are jumping up and 
down, clapping their hands and sides, and making 
the woods ring with "Run, George!" "Run, 
George !" And George won by just one leap. 

In the mean time, in a retired spot on the other 
side of the grove, the girls are playing by them- 
selves. Their games are of a more quiet and 
graceful type. Aunt Rachel is in the house writing 
copies for exercises in penmanship, now and then, 
from the door, taking a view of the grounds, to 
know that the sea is calm and the sky is clear. 

The shadow on the floor has moved east of the 
mark and from the door comes the call, "Books, 
books!" Again it is passed around the grounds, 
and there is a rush for the spring. The gourd is 
eagerly sought for, whilst some, kneeling on the 



A DAY IN SCHOOL 59 

clean stones, drink of the cool, clear water. 
Flushed faces dotted with drops of perspiration 
are cooled by bathing in the spring branch. 
Pocket combs are in demand, for everybody is re- 
quired to come in clean and neat. 

Order is restored and the writing-bench is filled 
by the little folks. Our pens are goose-quills 
fashioned by Aunt Rachel's sharp knife, and our 
copies suit our grades of progress. Cousin Jennie 
and I are still practicing on obHque lines and a 
curve called "pot hook." Somehow we two gen- 
erally sit together at the writing-bench. She 
doesn't shake my arm, and I like her anyway. We 
have so many lines to write and show to Aunt 
Rachel. The evening work is in many respects 
similar to that of the morning. The spelling-book 
battalion leads in the march, after which reader 
follows reader. The multiplication table pupils 
are reciting. Jim Parker tackles the seventh line 
and sails smoothly until he says, "7 times 6 are 
44." "No," says Aunt Rachel. Jim looks search- 
ingly upon the floor and comes again, "7 times 6 
are 40." "Tell him," and Cousin Will says, "7 
times 6 are 42." "That's it," says Jim. "I 
knowed it but couldn't think of it." 

"May I get a drink?" asks a pale-faced girl 



6o MEMORY DAYS 

who has used salt rather plentifully on potatoes 
for lunch. 

"Yes, take the gourd along." 

Having no bucket, the big gourd is brought up 
filled with the refreshing water, handed to the 
teacher first, and then around to the most thirsty, 
until the contents are exhausted. 

"Aunt Rachel, Bill Hill is making faces at me!" 
sings out a red-faced urchin. Aunt Rachel, being 
busy, and the buzzing on a high key, she does not 
hear the complaint. 

"Hush, you fool you ! I didn't hurt you," says 
Bill, sotto voce. Thinking, perhaps, that Bill 
may hurt him, the red-faced boy calms down. Bill 
gets his face into its wonted shape. 

Every now and then some spelling-book enthusi- 
ast goes up to the chair, and, in a supplicating tone, 
says, "Please, ma'am, what does this word spell?" 
The monotony is again broken by a screeching 
voice, "Aunt Rachel, make 'em quit scrougin'!'^ 
Observation reveals the fact that the victim, be- 
tween two larger boys, is being transformed into a 
sardine. 

"You boys stand up out there on the floor," says 
Aunt Rachel. They stand, and little Ned has 
plenty of room. 

Slates are again examined. The sun Is begin- 



A DAY IN SCHOOL 6l 

ning to make shadows on the sides of Little Moun- 
tain, toward which longing eyes are beginning to 
peep through the writing-bench window. 

Again the order is given, "Get your spelling- 
lessons." Every one now goes to work in earnest, 
and the last lessons are generally good. Even lazy 
Dick joins in the good work, for he has no desire 
to linger by the fountain. My class is on the floor. 
I have not been head for two weeks. Good spell- 
ers are in our class, and three are above me. Next 
to the last word is missed by the first boy. Down 
it comes, missed also by number two. Number 
three staggers at it, and I hold my breath. 
"Next." I spell it and march proudly to the head 
of the class. There is some notoriety to be gained 
in being first, as on the road home I know that 
more than one old darky Uncle will ask, "Who is 
head?" and if I say, "I am," there will come the 
hearty "Hurra for you !" which I enjoy. We sit 
down and listen to the big class recite. In the 
evening they trap down like we do. It is a hard 
lesson, and "Phthisic" is given out. Down it goes, 
missed by good spellers, until it comes to Nat Mor- 
ris, who adjusts the distorted letters of the big 
word and steps up four places. I just hate to see 
Nat go above Cousin Hannah Crawford, for I like 



62 MEMORY DAYS 

her. She pets and kisses me ; because I am such a 
little fellow, I reckon. 

The day's work is over and we prepare to leave. 
Bonnets, books, baskets, and hats are gotten, and 
all form In a curved line, the largest spelling-class 
next the door, in the order of class standing, and 
the other classes filling the line in the same order, 
with the A-B-C tots on the left wing. Then, as we 
go out, all say, "Good evening, Aunt Rachel," the 
girls making a curtsy, and the boys making a bow. 
Now for the "tagging," or getting the last touch 
of some schoolmate going In the opposite direction. 
To get the most "last tags" is prized by some as 
much as having spelled first. 

Cousin Will brings up old Swan, Aunt Rachel 
mounts, and homeward we go, leaving the grove 
to the evening bird and to the squirrel for a play- 
ground. 



CHAPTER VII 



THE hawk's nest 



"What are fears but voices airy? 
Whispering harm where harm is not, 
And deluding the unwary 
Till the fatal bow is shot?" 

— Wordsworth. 

Balcony Falls is the name of the gap In the Blue 
Ridge through which the waters of the historic 
James dash and roll In their course to the lowlands 
of eastern Virginia. Not far west of this pictur- 
esque gateway for the waters, near the south bank 
of the beautiful river, and almost under the 
shadow of the grand old mountains, was the home 
of my boyhood. The road thence to school led 
through scenes of varied Interest. First, through 
the rich bottom land of my cousin's, by the orchard 
fence over which the mellow June apples and red 
peaches fell Invitingly Into the path, thence along 
the bank of the James where grew the pawpaw, 
more luscious to my boyish taste than the banana I 
knew In later years; thence along the bed of a 
mountain stream with Its tempting trout holes 
under the sycamore trees, by the patch of chinqua- 
pin bushes, under the magnificent chestnut trees, 



64 MEMORY DAYS 

and, for the last mile, through a dense piece of 
woodland where the birds sang sweetly and the 
squirrels gamboled in play. Could a boy do other- 
wise than love such a road? 

Our school session began in the early spring and 
ended in the late autumn, and, as the winters were 
severe the children of the river section were too 
young, and many of the Valley pupils were too 
thinly clad to face the storms and biting cold. On 
the road to and from school we formed a merry 
group, chattering in careless glee, now chasing a 
rabbit that crossed our path, again throwing a 
stone at a squirrel frisking in the branches over- 
head, or wading in the char, cool streams we had 
to cross. Little did we realize that some of the 
happiest moments of our lives were then glid- 
ing by ! 

One point on our way excited our interest and 
curiosity to a high degree, until we explored the 
mystery connected therewith. In a dense, dark 
wood, by peering through the foliage we could see 
gloomy, gray rocks rising to the height of ten or 
twelve feet, and at a distance of about two hun- 
dred yards from our road. Some told us that 
great wild-cats had their den there; others, that 
hawks took their prey there for a feast, and that 
chicken bones by the cart-load were strewn there. 



THE hawk's nest 6^ 

As we passed this place of dread repute the music 
of little voices fell to a lower key, or if one were 
alone the speed of the train was measured by the 
strength of the engine. Week by week we grew 
bolder in passing the once dreaded spot, until, in 
solemn council, some bolder spirit moved that on 
the next evening we solve the mystery of the rocks 
by a bold dash thereto. With some slight misgiv- 
ings, the proposition was finally adopted. 

The time came, and the campaign had been 
mapped out, the road being the base line of opera- 
tions. The girls and smaller boys were to hold 
this line and guard the baggage, whilst the veter- 
ans were to move forward. With Cousin Will at 
the head of our column we advanced cautiously, 
halting every few steps for any developments in 
front. Nearer and nearer we came to the long- 
talked-of spot, and the rocks seemed to grow 
larger and looked grimmer. We looked for clouds 
of hawks and dens of wild-cats ! We reached the 
base of the nearer rock. Who would climb to the 
top or go around? With an air of bravado I 
shouted, "Get away, you old cats !" and threw a 
stone across the gray pile. I should have mentioned 
that our weapons of warfare were a stick in one 
hand and a stone in the other. Hark ! Horrors ! 
5 



66 MEMORY DAYS 

We heard a crackling of sticks and a rustling of 
leaves on the other side, and without orders tO' re- 
treat, we dashed back through the woods to the 
road, our gallant leader in advance! The girls 
screamed as we rallied for breath on the base line, 
one boy with scratched face, one with torn pants, 
and one hatless. So demoralized were our forces 
that further retreat was at once suggested, and, 
had not Abe Mitchell, a big Valley man, appeared 
on the scene, thereby reviving our courage, the 
"light brigade" had doubtless rallied on the home 
fortifications. We told him there were at least a 
dozen wild-cats over there. Laughing, he said, 
''Follow me, boys, and we will drive them away." 
Hardly admiring the boldness of our new leader, 
yet we all followed, as we felt safer near him 
than in the road, where, by a flank movement, the 
wild-cats might play havoc with us. 

Mounting the nearer rock with him, we saw a 
flock of startled sheep on the other side! Our 
hearts beat less rapidly, we grew bold again in an 
instant, explored the rocks, and found it really the 
hawk's banquet hall, but no trace of a wild-cat's 
den. Proudly did we tell the home-folks of our 
bold visit to the Hawk's Nest, but we touched 
lightly, I confess, on the hasty retreat. 

In that day wolves and bears made their homes 



THE hawk's nest 67 

in the dark caves and deep ravines of the moun- 
tains that lay, ridge after ridge, to the south of our 
homes. As children we often heard of the night 
attack of bruin upon the pig-pen, and the raid 
upon the flock of sheep by ravenous wolves. In 
one night, a short time before this, the wolves had 
killed twenty sheep for my father. So we looked 
with dread upon these denizens of the forest, be- 
lieving they would have no more regard for the 
feelings of a boy than for a sheep. 

One cloudy, sultry evening, when the atmos- 
phere was in a suitable condition for the ready 
transmission of sound, we were returning from 
school, and as we were passing by the Hawk's 
Nest, all at once we heard a fierce howling and 
snarling apparently In the woods close to us. 
Aunt Rachel, on old Swan, cried, "Run, children, 
the wolves are after us!" My sister and Cousin 
Hannah commenced breaking switches, which they 
used vigorously In increasing Swan's speed, and we 
little fellows made music with our feet as we pat- 
tered down the road. On went the cavalcade, the 
children panting. Swan's feet clattering, the wolves 
still howling nearer and nearer ! One of the boys 
struck his big toe against a rock and over he tum- 
bled. But no time for delay; on he came, hold- 



68 MEMORY DAYS 

ing his toe In one hand and screaming, ''Oh, 
Lordy ! the wolves will get me !" 

"If you don't stop hollering the wolves will get 
you," cried Aunt Rachel. Taking the advice, he 
transferred all extra power to his heels, and for- 
getting his toe, he made up for lost time and soon 
caught up with the fleeing crowd. The woods 
seemed endless and the howls sounded louder! At 
last, almost breathless, we dashed out Into the lane 
between two fields. "Stop, children!" cried Aunt 
Rachel. "We are safe. The wolves are on the 
mountain." Surely enough, they were over a mile 
away, up on the side of the mountain. 

Exhausted from the stampede, we threw our- 
selves upon the grassy banks, wiped our faces, 
fanned with hat and bonnet, and thought bitter 
things about the wild dogs. That night those 
savage beasts kept up that dismal howling until 
twelve o'clock. There was no school the next 
day, but a grand wolf hunt was organized by the 
neighborhood. The hunt resulted In the killing 
of many and the driving of the others farther back 
from the settlements. As I think of that evening 
those howls still ring In my ears. 

In those days, in the country, merchants were 
located far apart. This gave rise to a class of 
itinerant tradesmen called peddlers. These mer- 



THE hawk's nest 69 

chants generally traveled around on foot, carrying 
on their backs bundles of merchandise from fifty 
to one hundred pounds in weight. The Irish ped- 
dler came with his linen goods, the Englishman 
with his kerchiefs, laces, and such things; the 
Jew with his "sheep goots" of jewelry and elastic 
wares, and the Yankee, often in a wagon, with a 
regular "racket store." On most things these 
traveling merchants made from fifty to one hun- 
dred per cent, profit, and their food and lodging 
rarely cost anything. When the peddler unrolled 
his pack on the front porch his treasures were sur- 
veyed and admired by old and young, white and 
black. An Irishman of this class spent a night in 
our home. The next morning, at family prayers, 
he leaned his chair back against a door in the parti- 
tion next a bedroom. The button on the inside gave 
away, and Pat, chair and all, rolled in a heap back- 
wards into the room. As his heels went up, doubt- 
less thinking he was going through a trap-door 
into a pit made to catch peddlers, he uttered an 
exclamation, "Holy Vargin, save me!" Gather- 
ing himself up from the floor he came out smiling, 
amid the apologies of my mother for not having 
warned him of the danger. Devotions gave way 
to laughter for a time, and my father had to nerve 
himself to finish. Pat sat up straight in his chair 
after that sad experience. 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL 

"Yet a few days, and those who now appear 

In youth and beauty like the blooming year. 

In life's swift scene shall change." 

— Dry den. 

The summer days had gone and In the woods 
the autumn winds were rustling the yellow leaves. 
The frogs no longer piped In chorus by the pond 
In the meadow, and the whlppoorwlll's plaintive 
call was hushed. The chestnuts were opening out, 
and the school boy was watching with longing eye 
the brown nuts as they came peeping out from 
their cushions of velvet. The chinquapins, dark 
and glistening In their open burs, dotted the bush, 
and when It was shaken they fairly rained upon 
the ground. What fun we had playing "Jack in 
the bush," or "Odd or even," and the long strings 
we made ! 

I remember one, twice as long as I was, that I 
twined around Cousin Jennie's neck and told her 
I'd trade It to her for a ring she had been wearing. 
And when the trade was made I was proud as a 
prince with my newly won jewelry, and, as you 
can Imagine, the finger that wore It was not hidden 



THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL 7 1 

in my pockets. But, lo! next morning the little 
girl whispered in my ear, "Ma says I mustn't give 
my ring away to anybody," and with a sad heart 
I delivered up the precious ring. The "anybody" 
consoled me to some extent, as I thought no other 
boy would get it. I told her to keep the string, 
and that it was becoming to her pretty neck. I 
knew that I liked Cousin Jennie, for I saved nice 
fruit for her, and then I thought about her some- 
times when she was away. 

We boys would bring choice apples to school, 
and the one who was generous was the popular 
boy; but I preferred to be popular with the little 
brown-eyed girl. One day John Tolley, a Valley 
boy, came up to recite, and his pants' pockets were 
stuffed with fruit to the verge of bursting. Aunt 
Rachel told him to empty them, and the inventory 
of contents was as follows: Six apples, four 
peaches, six marbles, twenty chinquapins, twelve 
hickory nuts, with strings, nails and divers other 
articles of practical use to a boy. 

In the grove there were several large hickory 
nut trees, and it was often a race in the morning 
to get the fallen fruit. The squirrel would always 
get the first choice, stow it away, and peep down 
from his store room at us as we picked up our 
share. 



72 MEMORY DAYS 

Those mellow days of autumn were pleasant for 
us at school, and as I look back over the years that 
have flown, the joys of none were sweeter than 
those that made music In my heart at old Crystal 
Spring during that first session of school. 

One evening, when the last lesson had been 
heard, our teacher told us that school would soon 
be out, that there would be an examination and 
some of us would have to say pieces. At this un- 
expected announcement a buzz of surprise went 
around the room. 

"Yes," continued Aunt Rachel, "I will have 
your home folks come and hear you, and I want 
you all to study up and do your best." 

Young as we were, the thing pleased us, and the 
matter was discussed on the way home and at the 
supper tables. The next day the pieces were as- 
signed, and I was among the honored ones who 
were to "speak." For the next two weeks the tone 
of the school-room was louder than ever, In antici- 
pation of the work of the final day. Fanny Tolley 
was to recite a long piece of poetry. Cousin Joe 
was to tell what he saw at the "show" — a literary 
production from the pen of Cousin William, and 
Cousin Jennie was to recite "Mary had a little 
lamb." I knew she was going to do It well. 

I know not whether my bump of combativeness 



THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL 73 

suggested the selection assigned to me or not, but 
it was the thrilling poem beginning, 

"Let dogs delight to bark and bite, 
But children you should never fight." 

I thought it a gem, and threw my whole soul 
into it, feeling that upon my shoulders rested no 
small part of the honors of the day. And we were 
studying hard to be prepared in all ways. There 
were reviews in spelling, with all the catch words 
noted, capitals in geography asked over and over; 
the multiplication table was repeated by the juniors 
until even lazy Dick could sail smoothly through 
the seventh line; copy-books were arrayed in 
clean dresses, and all things were gotten in trim for 
the day of inspection. Why, Mr. Ewing, our 
preacher, was to be there and open with a prayer I 
The whole thing was a revelation in our young 
lives, and we looked forward to It with an eager 
interest the spice of which still lingers, though 
long, weary years have rolled between that day 
and now. 

The last day of school dawned at last, and the 
stir began early in the home. It has been often 
noted that on the morning of some gala day the 
boy leaves his downy pillow with much more zeal 
and grace than on ordinary occasions. On this 



74 MEMORY DAYS 

morning Sunday suits were donned, and larger 
lunch baskets, with their luscious contents, greeted 
our admiring gaze. 

At the appointed time — but it seemed a weary 
while to us ! — the visitors were seated, the exer- 
cises were opened, and the prayer was made, doubt- 
less for the first time some of those Valley boys had 
heard a prayer. Then came the oral examination 
of the leading classes, the star actors in the play. 
Aunt Rachel, to shield the rear-guard classes, and 
avoid a probable defeat, did not lead them into 
action. The principal subjects were spelling and 
geography. 

Some of the larger pupils worked a few "sums" 
and handed them around for inspection; the ex- 
amining committee inspected them, looked wise, 
but said little. The multiplication table was 
ground out by a juvenile class in double-quick 
time, winning approbation from the audience, for 
in that elder day this was an accomplishment of 
no ordinary value. Fanny Tolley came out first 
in geography, as she rattled off the capitals of the 
world in fine style; and Cousin Hannah was best 
in arithmetic, working an example that embraced 
the four ground rules. Mr. Ewing said they did 
well, and they asked no higher praise. These liter- 
ary feats ended about noon, and a recess of an 



THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL 75 

hour was given for the discussion of lunch lore. 
And then — why, the dinner spread in the grove 
made the hungry boys' eyes fairly dance! My 
mother and Cousin William were especially at- 
tentive to the Valley children, inviting them to 
share in the feast of good things which many of 
them did not bring. Then came a volunteer exhi- 
bition in athletics for the entertainment of the 
crowd, such as jumping, racing and leap-frog, and 
some boys who did not figure much in the examin- 
ation now took the lead and won some faint ap- 
plause. In the latter days the champions of the 
college base-ball nines, of the foot-ball teams and 
of the boat crews are applauded even above the 
medallist or the valedictorian! "O tempora, O 
mores!" It was not muscle versus brains at old 
Crystal Spring. 

On this occasion Aunt Rachel's voice had 
to speak peace to some troubled elements, as, in 
rivalry and jealousy, two mountain boys on the 
athletic roll came to the verge of mortal combat. 
Quiet being restored as the clouds of war rolled 
by, the oratorical part of the program began. It 
was an exhibition of beauty unadorned, no pom- 
pous display of programs, no band of music, sal- 
utatory, nor valedictory, simply an unvarnished 
tale. 



76 MEMORY DAYS 

John Hill, a bud of genius grown In Valley soil, 
first reeled off a few lines from some good old 
hymn. Then came Cousin Jennie with her little 
lamb, and I almost held my breath for fear the 
lamb would get away from her, and when It didn't 
I thought she beat John Hill all to pieces ! Then, 
In order, came the rest of the program, there being 
no slip of memory that I can remember, for Aunt 
Rachel had Impressed upon us that there must be 
no such word as fall. Either my excited appear- 
ance or the sentiment of my piece aroused the 
rislbles of a big country Jake who sat opposite me, 
and wore a broad grin all the time I was giving 
my piece. It being my first attempt In public on 
the stage, at first my heart was In my throat, and 
my knees quivered, but a smile from Cousin Jen- 
nie nerved me for the conflict and I went boldly 
through. Cousin Joe's piece about the "show" 
created the greatest flutter In the audience as he 
gave a graphic description of the Impression the 
camel made on him. 

The last piece was said and Mr. Ewing was 
called on for a talk. I think he took advant- 
age of his audience, and, as many of them needed 
it, his remarks took the line of a short sermon. 
With this the exercises closed and the curtain 



THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL 77 

dropped on the first session at Crystal Spring Sem- 
inary. 

Then came the buzz of congratulations to Aunt 
Rachel and to those who had just played a part in 
the exercises. 

On the outskirts the servants, who at the win- 
dows and doors had enjoyed the rendering of the 
pieces in a high degree, were discussing the merits 
of their favorites. As I came by them Uncle 
Humphrey said to- me, ''My laws ! Alexander, 
you just rode a high boss, with his head away up 
in th' a'r, erwhile ago. I bets on you every time." 
Uncle Aleck said to my cousin, "Willie, you nor- 
ated powerful fine. I told dese niggers dat some 
day you'd study theologism and be a tarin' down 
preacher." Even Aunt Eliza, our cook added to 
the fund of praise: "You children did mighty 
pretty an' showed sech nice manners." Those 
simple words from the true and faithful slaves 
made our hearts flutter with pride, as much as the 
encomiums of our white friends. 

Afterward I dared ask Cousin Jennie if her 
heart didn't thump when she was reciting "Mary 
and the little lamb." She informed me that girls' 
hearts didn't thump, and I felt very much de- 
pressed and realized that I had shown my ignor- 
ance in the matter. 



78 MEMORY DAYS 

Then the good-bys were spoken, the rough 
hands of the mountain boys were shaken, all were 
homeward bound and the first session at Crystal 
Spring Seminary was over. 



CHAPTER IX 

STRAY BLOSSOMS 

"In joyous youth what soul hath never known 
Thought, feeling, taste, harmonious to his own? 
Who hath not praised while beauty's pensive eye 
Asked from his heart the homage of a sigh?" 

— Campbell. 

In the Interregnum between Aunt Rachel's last 
session at Crystal Spring Seminary and the advent 
of a new ruler I was sent, for a few months, to 
Oak Grove, an educational Institution some six 
miles from home. One Joseph Steele, a college 
graduate, presided over this domicile of learning. 
I boarded with *'Aunt" Nancy Thompson, a life- 
long friend of my mother's, and one of the "salt of 
the earth." At first there was a spice In the new 
life, the meeting and getting acquainted with 
strange faces, and the coming of a boarding pupil 
created a slight ripple on the surface of this liter- 
ary fountain. Thanks to my training at Crystal 
Spring Seminary I was well advanced and was 
classed with pupils older than myself. I noticed 
more class-work than in our home school, for Mr. 
Steele had been to college and caught new Ideas. 

In my first day's experience, In surveying the 



80 MEMORY DAYS 

room and its buzzing pupils, my eyes lingered on 
a little girl with black hair and dark blue eyes, 
with a pretty red ribbon around her neck. In 
about Rve seconds the spell of the feminine was 
over me, and my boyish admiration went out to 
the sweet little girl. I caught myself comparing 
her with Cousin Jennie, and realized that her 
beauty was of a very different type. For, looking 
away across the hills to a home close by the James, 
I saw a little girl with dark brown eyes and light 
brown hair, and I almost wished to see her again. 
But then the blue eyes flashed on me, and, being 
partial to beauty, I stole frequent glances at the 
little girl so near me. At recess I gave her a big 
red apple and the acquaintance, after a little chat, 
moved on to the border line of friendship. As the 
days went by I found it very pleasant to talk to 
Hazel Moore and look into her pretty eyes. I 
brought her apples and nuts, and she smiled on me 
in a most bewitching manner. I forget whether it 
was leap year or not, but Hazel played her part 
well. It developed on my part into a case of 
boyish love, pure and artless. I was bold in the 
cause and cared not for teasing nor idle gossip. 
She was older than I, but about the same height. 

We were both, it chanced, in a large geography 
class, some of which were young men and women. 



STRAY BLOSSOMS 8 I 

They ''trapped down," as It was called, and held 
the places thus won. The class stood in a semi- 
circle extended across the room. I took my place 
at the foot, and away up yonder, near the head, 
was Hazel. Some of the hardest studying of my 
school life was done in order to reach her. Trap- 
ping one by one I passed up the line, running 
around six-footers, until one bright morning I 
made the last step and stood by her side, as happy 
as a bee on a honeysuckle blossom ! Her smile 
paid me for the hard work to get there. Yes, in- 
deed it did. Mine surely was a case of boyish 
love, since it was a source of aspiration for higher 
aims in life ! 

If Hazel missed a question, I, too, missed It, 
and we were trapped down together. I was too 
gallant to "trap" her down. Most of the day's 
lessons being over she and I would get adjoining 
seats, where one of the girls' benches, at right 
angles, met one of the boys' rows. I would draw^ 
a house on my slate and call It "our home," and 
she seemed so pleased that my talent for drawing 
developed rapidly, especially along the line of do- 
mestic architecture. In a generous and melting 
mood one day I gave Hazel, as a token of my 
tender esteem, a beautiful double silver pocket 
6 



82 MEMORY DAYS 

comb. The next morning her sister returned it. 
saying her mother thought I might have need of It 
myself. I was in the depths for a short time, but 
a bewitching smile brought me up again. 

It was a happy day when my room-mate and I 
went to spend the night with John, Hazel's 
brother. Mother Moore was so nice to me that I 
began to feel as one of the family. By the way, 
Billy T., my friend, claimed Mollie, the older sis- 
ter, as his little sweetheart, so we were comrades 
in a good cause. After the night's tasks had been 
learned, came the games, the plums in the pudding. 
We played "button," and I always gave it to one 
beside Hazel to get the seat next to her, which I 
prized as if next to the throne. Next we played 
blindman's buff, and when I knew by the merry 
laugh that I had caught Hazel, in the excitement 
I just couldn't help throwing my arms around her 
and holding her tight, whilst she struggled to be 
free! 

Thus the days glided by as a sweet dream. Yet 
I made good progress in my studies, combining 
work and play, duty and pleasure, loving and be- 
ing smiled on. I had a confidant, a young man, 
who also stood betwixt me and the rougher boys. 
At one recess, as we walked in the grove, I asked 
him if he had ever heard of a man's marrying a 



STRAY BLOSSOMS 83 

lady older than he? "Yes," said Ben promptly, 
"and they lived happy as June bugs!" On hear- 
ing the comforting words I almost shouted, for 
some happy day I might claim Hazel. 

I had some rivals and they often vexed my soul, 
but by dint of cool determination and big red 
apples I seemed to keep in the lead. One day a 
boy larger than I said something about Hazel that 
was improper. I told him he lied! "What you 
got to do with it, you little monkey?" I dared him 
to come out in the woods. Reluctantly he fol- 
lowed me, and Ben, and some other boys, came 
along to see fair play. Seeing my zeal and support 
he cowed and whined out, "I didn't mean it." Said 
I, "I'm going to whip you for saying It, anyhow, 
you dog you," and quick as thought I popped him 
in the stomach, shortening his breath and doubling 
him up, and then I popped him on the side of the 
head, making him spin around and groan. But 
gathering himself up he peppered me in fine style 
for a minute or two. Round and round we went, 
until I ducked down, caught him by a leg and threw 
him, zeboom ! on his back, and his head striking 
a root he was stunned. Then Ben said we must 
stop, and that I had won the day. Mail-clad 
knight of the Middle Ages, victor In the tourna- 
ment field, never received warmer praise than I. 



84 MEMORY DAYS 

The boys said I did right and they felt like drum- 
ming the fellow out of school. John Moore told 
Hazel how I had fought for her, and the next 
morning she gave me some sweet flowers and her 
mother sent me a piece of nice cake. ^'I never did 
like that boy," she said, "and am so glad you 
whipped him. I like you lots better now." Why, 
I wanted to tackle him again just to get such a 
nice reward. 

One evening word came to me to come home 
the next Saturday. Dearly as I loved my old home 
I half regretted to leave Oak Grove. When I 
told Hazel good-by I said, "I'll think about you 
sometimes. You must come to see me, as I have 
been to see you," and she replied, "Come back 
some time. I'll think of you, too." Oh, the art- 
lessness of childhood! 



CHAPTER X 

A NEW ADMINISTRATION 

"Remorseless time! 
Fierce spirit of the glass and scythe! What power 
Can stay him in his silent course! On, still on. 
He presses, and forever." 

— George D. Prentice. 

The snows of two more winters had clothed the 
Blue Mountains in white robes, then melted away, 
and again the violets were peeping out on the 
southern meadow slopes. Over these beds of blue 
flowers mild breezes were softly stealing, and they 
told us of the coming of spring. 

Aunt Rachel had finished her last session at 
Crystal Spring Seminary. Her strength not being 
equal to the increasing work of the position, she 
resigned. I can not pay too high a tribute to the 
memory of this good and dear woman. She was 
a Christian of a high type and a faithful teacher. 
She sought not only to train her pupils' minds but 
to implant in their hearts moral principles that 
would bloom into better living. Thus her influ- 
ence on us all was good, and we loved her well. 
She was strict, yet just to the line, and the secret 
of her character building lay in the fact that she 



86 MEMORY DAYS 

realized she was not dealing in stubble, In wood 
or In Iron, but that she was training Immortal 
spirits. Of her it may be truly said that her good 
works followed her. 

Her last session closed earlier than usual, and In 
a quiet way. It was a sad day at the old school- 
house. After the regular day's work was over. 
Aunt Rachel said she was not going to teach any 
more as she had not been feeling well lately, and 
she continued about as follows: "This has been 
the most pleasant school of my teaching life, and I 
am sorry to have to give you up. I thank you for 
your kindness to me and consideration of me as 
your teacher. Always try to be good, rather than 
to be rich or distinguished, and strive to live useful 
lives. I shall always remember you with the kind- 
liest feelings and pray God to make you Christian 
men and women. We part to-day, my young 
friends, but let us all try to meet up yonder around 
the Great White Throne, where there will be no 
more parting! May God bless you all. Good- 
by!" 

As she closed, her voice faltered and tears 
streamed down her cheeks. There was the secret 
of her Influence; she loved us. Tears were in our 
eyes and many of the girls sobbed aloud. After 
a quiet leave-taking. Aunt Rachel for the last time 



A NEW ADMINISTRATION 87 

mounted old Swan, and the Valley pupils stood 
with tearful eyes watching her until hidden by the 
grand old trees, and then slowly they turned 
toward their humble homes. 

As the time came for the selection of a new 
teacher it was the general opinion that as more 
muscle and labor might be needed in the discipline 
a man should be chosen. The requirements, both 
mental and physical, seemed to be met in one Dick 
Richeson, a young man of good figure, sandy hair, 
homely face, and boasting of some experience in 
curbing young and rebellious spirits. 

His advent created quite a flutter amongst the 
fair damsels of the neighborhood until they got 
a peep at his mouth. Also the juveniles were in- 
quisitive as to his personal appearance and the 
probability of his following Solomon's advice 
about the training of youngsters. He was meas- 
ured up by every boy in the community, and the 
common opinion was, "You had better look out!" 
Mr. Richeson stood on a higher literary plane than 
Aunt Rachel, as he could cipher beyond old Pike, 
teach book-keeping, and start a boy In algebra. 
Such scholastic acquirements raised him in our es- 
timation to the height of the poplar tree by the 
school-room door. 

In due time school opened with most of the pu- 



5 5 MEMORY DAYS 

pils that Aunt Rachel taught. As Fanny T., 
Cousin Hannah, and my sister were almost young 
ladies, it was not thought the proper thing for 
them to go tO' school to a young man teacher, even 
if he did not claim to be an Adonis. Miss Nancy 
T., an old maid, remarked at a discussion of the 
question, "La, me, I wouldn't think of going to 
school to a young gentleman. He might make 
love to me, and then — well, I might faint!" 

The first day was mostly spent by Mr. Richeson 
In trying tO' classify the pupils, evidently an im- 
provement on Aunt Rachel's plan of administra- 
tion. So many difficulties were in the way that he 
seemed ready to cry out in the agony of despair. In 
view of the different text-books and different 
grades of progress therein. Then, of course, most 
of the boys during the day were feeling the for- 
bearance and testing the patience of the new 
teacher. We were getting larger now, more dem- 
ocratic in our Ideas and disposed to advocate a 
civil rights' bill for the protection of the schoolboy. 
That evening, before dismissing us, Mr. Richeson 
delivered his maiden speech along the lines of 
order, discipline, how to study, and so on, in a 
strain that led us to believe he thought us semi- 
barbarians and dunces. We were very sensitive to 
any reflection upon Aunt Rachel's methods, and 



A NEW ADMINISTRATION 89 

the classifying was the only thing that struck us 
favorably. On the whole, we about decided not 
to like him, and to make it uncomfortable for him, 
provided he did not make it too much so for us. 
"How do you like your new teacher?" we were 
asked all along the road home. "Don't like him," 
we said. "He thinks Aunt Rachel doesn't know 
much." The girls said, "He is so ugly." "He 
doesn't dress nicely." 

The next day at noon, concluding that forbear- 
ance had ceased to be a virtue, the new adminis- 
tration transferred a small limb of a cedar tree to 
the corner by his chair, where it stood threatening 
us with fearful results should we not be wiser and 
better, and a subdued air reigned over the benches 
for a time. But, growing bolder, a little bud of 
genius was invited to the teacher's chair, and in- 
itiated into the policy of the new ruler. Bob 
said it didn't hurt much. Then Nat Morris 
stumped the teacher on a sum and we were wicked 
enough to be glad of it, as he didn't know so much 
after all. All the time he seemed to be measuring 
the big boys, some of whom were equal to him in 
pounds and inches, as we little fellows thought he 
gave them more rights and privileges than a just 
government should do. 

Things drifted on and on, and Mr. Richeson 



90 MEMORY DAYS 

failed to secure our regard or confidence. He 
would doctor the little fellows, and, for similar of- 
fences, excuse the larger boys. This will, for any 
teacher, gain the contempt of all his pupils. He 
did few things "like Aunt Rachel," and we re- 
sented this departure from the old paths. We 
also found we could slight our lessons to some ex- 
tent. 

One Sunday he went courting or trying to do 
something of the kind, lost the road coming home 
that night, and failed to get to school in time on 
Monday. When he failed to make his appearance 
at eight, the time for opening school, and hearing 
of the probable reason, we scattered in short order. 
Coming in over an hour after, puffing like a steam 
tug, he found a silent grove. We would not have 
treated Aunt Rachel that way for anything. To 
get even with us and the world, he issued an order 
for us to come to school the next Saturday. This 
was denounced as an outrage unheard of in the 
annals of crimes against school-children, and in the 
indignation meeting a resolution was unanimously 
passed that we would not come unless our parents 
said so. Now, in those old Scotch-Irish homes 
there reigned rule and obedience first and last. So 
great was the feeling in our behalf that one of the 
principal patrons advised Mr. Richeson to with- 



A NEW ADMINISTRATION 9 1 

draw the order. He did so, and said we had bet- 
ter not do that again. We smiled over our tri- 
umph and thought, "Old fellow, you had better 
not lose the road on another courting expedition." 

One day he whipped a little girl for not knowing 
a long lesson, which we thought the meanest thing 
we had ever heard of. I said if he'd touch Cousin 
Jennie I'd hit him with a rock. I told her so, and 
she said she'd try to be good. I replied, "Good 
or not, I dare him to hit you !" and In my spirit of 
chivalry I would have risked my life for the sweet 
little girl. 

Not having been used to good society, when he 
visited in the better homes, by doing green and 
awkward things, he was laughed at and ridiculed 
by the younger people. Once at dinner, a finger- 
bowl being passed to him, after the fish course, 
he quenched his thirst therefrom, remarking that 
he always liked to drink out of a bowl. 

Soon it was whispered that we were not learning 
as much as under Aunt Rachel and that the glory 
was departing from the temple. 

Things went on in a most unsatisfactory man- 
ner, many of the larger girls having stopped, and 
my father took my brother and me away before 
the close of the session. We afterward heard that 
Mr. Richeson ended with only a few pupils, no re- 



92 MEMORY DAYS 

grets and no tears. The Latin dictum, Poeta nas- 
citiir, non fit, can be said of the teacher with equal 
truth. Hundreds mistake their calling in trying 
to enter this noble profession. 

It was during this term that I was wrongly sus- 
pected of being profane. It happened this way. 
A great many negroes were employed in building 
a dam across the river, auxiliary to the construc- 
tion of the canal. One night some of these light- 
fingered sons of Africa entered uninvited our apple 
house and helped themselves rather bountifully to 
some choice fruit. The next morning, boiling 
with indignation, I called to enlist the sympathy of 
my cousin's family in our misfortune. I found 
them at the breakfast table, and said with some 
warmth, "Them dam niggers broke into our to- 
bacco house last night and stole lots of our apples !" 
My cousin William, an elder in the Presbyterian 
church, almost held his breath as he looked at me 
and then at his good wife who also looked unutter- 
able things. 

"Why, Alexander, what do you mean?" 

"Why, I mean those niggers working at the dam 
stole our apples." 

"Ah!" said Cousin William, "I see now. I 
misunderstood you at first, my boy." I was re- 
stored to the plane of his good opinion. 



A NEW ADMINISTRATION 93 

Will whispered to me as we left the house, 
"Alex, I thought you was cussln' sure enough." 

In the same way "Hell-gate Hollow," just south' 
of our farm, always needed an explanation, and 
here It Is. In the geological changes through 
which those mountains passed the great mass of 
debris forced out, and leaving the gorge behind, 
was deposited In front of the hollow in the shape 
of a hill guarding the entrance. It was first called 
"Hill-gate Hollow," but some backslider per- 
verted the name to Hell-gate, which name has been 
retained. It was thus Ill-named, as the ravine, 
with its Ivy-crowned sides, pools of cool, clear 
water, filled with trout, and cascades over moss- 
covered rocks, makes a most romantic spot and 
delightful summer excursion from the noonday 
heat. 

After returning from Oak Grove I talked much 
of my boarding-school life. I was a step ahead of 
my cousins, having seen much more of the world. 
I must have mentioned Hazel's name rather often, 
for one day Jennie said, "Alex, you must like Ha- 
zel." Said I, "Why, y-ye-yes, we were good 
friends." My cousins had seen her often at Fall- 
ing Spring Church, and Cousin Will had said he 
liked her looks mighty well. As she spoke the 
blue eyes were dancing before my mind, and I 



94 MEMORY DAYS 

could see the dark ringlets fall over her snowy 
neck as she tossed her little head. The tempter 
whispered, ''She's prettier than Jennie." And then 
the good spirit cried, "Get hence, get hence, Jennie 
Is the prettiest and the best." 

"Alex, did you give Hazel candy?" "No, I 
ate all the candy I got." "You greedy boy, you 
might have brought me some," she said. "Did 
you take her any apples?" "Let me see. I most 
forget. Why, yes, one day, I gave her a red one." 
"I believe Hazel was your sweetheart over at Oak 
Grove!" It was a stunner and confusedly I stam- 
mered out, "I d-did like Hazel over there, but 
now I'm back on the river." "I wish," said Jen- 
nie, "/ had a red apple." "You shall have one 
and a sweet one, too." The next day she got the 
apple and all was quiet along the James once more. 
For Jennie and I are no longer reveling In the bow- 
ers of childhood, but are crossing the beautiful 
land of girlhood and boyhood where the present Is 
joyous and the future brightens at every step. 



CHAPTER XI 

AN ELOPEMENT 

"Ah! love can every hope inspire; 
It banishes wisdom all the while; 
And the life of the nymph we admire 
Seems adorned forever with a smile." 

As a boy I had an eye partial to beauty, whether 
it was painted on the flower, radiated from the 
bright eye of some pretty girl, or crowned some 
queenly woman. And so it befell that my boyish 
admiration went out toward Mrs. L., the young 
wife of the proprietor of the hydraulic cement 
works at Balcony Falls. Tall, graceful, with 
black hair and dark, flashing eyes, bright and 
sparkling in conversation, Mrs. L., in my boyish 
fancy, was a queen among women. Her visits to 
our home were grand events, and I loved tO' sit 
and listen to her humorous comments on things in 
general. On that day Aunt Eliza, our cook, taxed 
her culinary skill to the utmost in getting "a grand 
dinner for de tiptop quality." Always stylishly 
dressed, Mrs. L. was closely observed by the ladies 
of the river circle, as fashion sheets were rare In 
those days. I just loved to hear her call my 



g6 MEMORY DAYS 

mother, "Mother Paxton," for it made me feel 
proud of the imaginary relationship. 

One day she said, ''Mother Paxton, I think I 
never told you of my elopement and marriage.'' 
"Why, did I ever think you ran off to get mar- 
ried!" said my mother. "Yes, and I'm afraid 
you'll think I was a naughty girl; but let me tell 
you of it." "Go on," replied my mother, "and 
maybe after I hear the story I'll not scold you 
much." And then Mrs. L. told her story, which 
I will give in substance. 

Her father, she said, was a rich farmer near 
Cumberland, Maryland. She had been raised, as 
it were, in the lap of luxury, and educated in Balti- 
more. As a school girl she had met Charles L., 
a young man of handsome appearance, refined 
manners, and pleasing address. Many were the 
billet-doux scented with geranium leaves and 
breathing tender messages that, by a secret mail 
service, found their way to her boudoir. School 
days over, she reigned as a belle in her social circle. 
Charles L. called once, twice, three times, and her 
father began to frown. Very aristocratic himself, 
he desired wealth and high social position for his 
daughter when she married. Socially and intel- 
lectually Charles L. was her equal but was just 
beginning life on rather small means. Plumed and 



AN ELOPEMENT 97 

gallant knights with lordly estates paid homage to 
her, but to her, Charles was the grandest of them 
all, and she gave her heart to him. Love in a cot- 
tage was to be preferred to gilded halls and a cold, 
politic marriage. 

By way of parenthesis, let me introduce a side- 
light on the scene. If Charles had shown the tact 
and nerve of the young man I'll mention, he, too, 
might have won the father over tO' his side. A 
young man, who lacked only money in the estima- 
tion of a wealthy father, dared to ask him for his 
daughter. He railed on him, saying, "What! 
Why, sir, you'll bring my daughter to the wash- 
tub." The young fellow looked him straight in 
the eye, and said, "Well, sir, if I do, I'll carry her 
water for her!" The old fellow eyed him closely 
for a few seconds and then said, "Take her then, 
you rascal you !" He won by a word fitly spoken 
— an "apple of gold in a picture of silver." 

Now, to return to Mrs. L.'s story. The B. & O. 
Railroad ran through her father's farm, there 
being a station a mile above. With the aid of a 
faithful maid letters still came and went. No 
longer permitted to see her lover in her own home, 
meetings were arranged in the homes of friends, 
for "forbidden fruit is always the sweetest." In 
7 



98 MEMORY DAYS 

an unfortunate moment the maid dropped a letter 
near Miss Mary's father and by her excited man- 
ner betrayed the secret. He captured the letter, 
guessed the writer, read it, and had a stormy In- 
terview with his daughter. He threatened her 
with disinheritance and a nunnery if she still per- 
sisted in her course. But love laughs at opposi- 
tion. 

The letter spoke of elopement, and the word 
made her father furious. In two weeks or so it 
was arranged that Charles L. was, on a certain 
day, to come down on the 9 o'clock morning train, 
and she was to get to the railroad, about three- 
quarters of mile from her home, and signal the 
train to stop. To get to the train unobserved re- 
quired a circuitous route and an early start. The 
day came, and by a back way she followed, at 
some distance, the maid with a small satchel. Her 
plan was to hide near the track until she heard the 
whistle, and then run for dear life. Things worked 
well until, from a distance, she was spied by a 
negro man, who, loyal to Mr. A., reported that he 
had seen Miss Mary crossing the new ground and 
going toward the railroad. He and his son, 
mounting their horses and calling the hounds, 
dashed off In the direction of the trail. Fearing 
pursuit, Miss Mary had the maid lift up the edge 



AN ELOPEMENT 99 

of a brush pile, conceal her underneath, and then 
run to the woods near by. On the horsemen came, 
the dogs barking as if on a trail. And, sure 
enough, they "treed" her under the brush! The 
game was caught, and it was a dear! 

Baffled, she was led captive back home, and for 
three days locked In her room with a diet of bread 
and water to cool down her ardor and restore her 
blinded vision. Released from prison, for several 
weeks there was quiet in the home. Confidence 
being somewhat restored, Miss Mary was given 
more liberty, even to the extent of visiting a neigh- 
bor. But you'd as well try to turn water up stream 
as to keep two lovers from meeting. They met. 
They planned for another campaign. This time, 
early on a certain morning, she was to go tO' the 
shanty of an old Irish woman, a short distance 
from the road, and conceal herself therein until 
train time. Miss Mary had been kind to the 
woman and hoped for a favor. 

The day came, and as the first touches of dawn 
crimsoned the east she and her maid went to the 
humble house and aroused "Aunt Bridget," whom 
she asked to hide her from her father until time 
for the morning train. At first the old woman 
hesitated between her love for Mary and loyalty 
to Mr. A., In whose house she lived. "Oh, me 

tore 



100 MEMORY DAYS 

darlint, how kin I do it? If yez father finds you, 
he'll put me out. Saint Patrick, help me !" "But, 
Aunt Bridget, I'll pay you well. You shall not 
suffer." Then she took Miss Mary up the greasy 
rounds of a ladder to the loft where was a bed on 
w^hich were two' feather ticks. She told her to sit 
there, whilst she kept a sharp lookout below, and 
if she saw her father coming she would put her 
between the ticks! The sun arose and the home 
was astir. The minutes seemed as hours to Miss 
Mary. The die was cast, and if she failed again 
her lot would doubtless be hard. At eight o'clock 
the breakfast bell would ring and then doubtless 
she would be missed. The train was due at nine. 
A long lane led from the home by the shanty on 
to the railroad track. The old woman watched 
faithfully. Suddenly, at 8.50, there was a com- 
motion at the house, servants running to the stables, 
and Mr. A. shouting. "He's a comin'!" cried the 
watcher as she came puffing up the ladder. "Git 
right in here, chile, an' lie still as death !" and she 
smoothed the top of the bed over the trembling 
girl. 

Hardly had she gotten down the ladder when 
Mr. A. galloped up and called to Bridget to 
tell Mary to come out of the house. "Faith, by 
the holy saints, I hain't seen the darlint chile these 



AN ELOPEMENT lOI 

two weeks. She's done fergot her auld friend." 
"Stop your lying and bring her out; her tracks 
came this way." "Law, come and see for yer- 
silf ; me house is a little one." In he came, glanced 
around, and up the ladder he climbed. As he 
laid his hand on the bed, Mrs. L. said, her heart 
nearly stopped beating. Sadly muttering, "She's 
not here," he turned, went down the ladder, 
mounted his horse and galloped off in another di- 
rection. Just then the train whistled for the sta- 
tion above, and Miss Mary sprang from her hid- 
ing-place, her dress crumpled and dotted with 
feathers. The train was thundering down the 
road and moments were precious. With a white 
scarf to signal she slipped along, hidden by the 
fence, until she reached the open space, and then 
the race commenced. With the scarf flying she 
fairly flew toward the track. Her father, from a 
distance, spied her, and came at full speed. The 
train slowed up and all was excitement. The pas- 
sengers took in the scene and windows and plat- 
forms were crowded. Her father was gaining and 
her speed seemed to slacken. From the train 
came cheers and handkerchiefs waved. The old 
engineer cried out, "Run, lady run I" Charles L. 
jumped off to meet her, and putting an arm around 
her fairly carried the trembling girl to the car- 



102 MEMORY DAYS 

Steps, where strong hands pulled her aboard. 
With extra steam turned on the train swept by just 
as Mr. A. dashed up, one minute too late. 

Not to be outdone, Mr. A. chartered a train 
for Richmond, in pursuit. On sped the lovers 
toward Greensboro, North Carolina, the Gretna 
Green for young couples flying from paternal 
wrath. Owing to some delay en route, their train 
got to Greensboro only a short time before the one 
carrying the father. A telegram from a friend 
awaited them at the hotel telling of pursuit. Look- 
ing out of a window Miss Mary saw her father 
and brother drive up to the hotel. "What shall 
we do?" she almost gasped. "So near and yet to 
fail !" The landlord was quickly taken into- con- 
fidence and strategy was planned. The father had 
found out they were there and his plan was to cap- 
ture the bride-elect as they left the hotel for the 
minister's. A carriage was ordered to the front 
with orders for the driver to say it was for a young 
couple going to be married. The father inter- 
viewed the driver and took his stand near by, ready 
for the prize. In the mean time, a carriage was 
ordered to the rear door, in which, with the land- 
lord, they drove to the minister's and were mar- 
ried. "Happy day in the morning!" They came 
back to the hotel, man and wife, with the minister 



AN ELOPEMENT IO3 

and the landlord tO' certify to the ceremony. Driv- 
ing up to the front the two gentlemen told Mr. A. 
it was all over and they were married. With 
bowed head he went to his room, and returned to 
his home on the next train. 

The honeymoon trip was a few days In Wash- 
ington and the happy couple came back to Mr. 
L.'s place of business, and life began In earnest. 
Six months rolled around and a letter came. She 
knew the handwriting. With trembling hands she 
opened and read, "Mary, my dear child, come 
home to see us. I can't stand It any longer. 
Papa." Tears fell fast as she hurried tO' show it 
to Charles. She went by the next train and was 
received with open arms. 

As she finished her story, Mrs. L. said, "Now, 
Mother Paxton, will you scold me?" "Well, I 
can't say you did right in all things, still I'm glad 
you got Mr. L. We will just forget the past, and 
you be a good woman and all will come out right 
at last." 

And It did, for they were very happy In their 
home, and Mr. L. prospered In his business, and 
became a wealthy and Influential citizen. 



CHAPTER XII 

RECONSTRUCTION AT CRYSTAL SPRING 

"Oh! early love too fair thou art 
For earth, — too beautiful and pure. 
Fast fade thy day-dreams from the heart, 
But all thy waking woes endure." 

— Whitman. 

"Have you seen the new teacher?" ''Does he 
look cross?" "Is he a great big fellow?" Such 
questions were asked by the small boy as the ad- 
vent of the new teacher was heralded in the neigh- 
borhood. "Is he young and handsome?" asked 
the young girls. "I wonder if he is married or 
engaged," soliloquized the elder sister as the 
vision of a probable conquest swept over her 
mind. "He will make you boys chalk the line," 
said Uncle Frank, who had seen him. 

As the rising democracy of Crystal Spring 
needed reconstruction and bringing back to the 
good old paths, discipline was the essential quality 
desired in the make-up of the new king. 

There was an idea abroad in that day that a boy 
needed to be anointed with a certain amount of 
hickory oil every day, and that it must be well 
rubbed in. This was thought to stimulate his 



RECONSTRUCTION AT CRYSTAL SPRING I05 

physical growth, and also to quicken his mental 
perceptions, and increase the flow of correct ideas. 
And there must have been something in the doc- 
trine, as the average boy of that day was far 
ahead of the average boy of the present, with all 
our boasted improvement in "methods of instruc- 
tion." 

Well, Uncle Frank had interviewed Mr. Jo- 
seph Roach, a young man of about twenty-five, and 
pronounced him equal to any emergency in the 
school-room. The name struck me as being very 
funny, and I suggested to Cousin Will that I hoped 
he didn't look like a bug. Some years had rolled 
by since many of us had started up the Hill of 
Knowledge under Aunt Rachel's guiding hand, 
and as we grew older latent talents began to de- 
velop, not so much in the field of letters as in mis- 
chief and fun. So our good fathers wanted the 
reins drawn more tightly and our feet directed in 
the straight paths. 

On the morning of the first day of school there 
was quite a flutter in many homes, and with om- 
inous foreboding, we wended our way to the old 
playground. Quite a number of pupils were on 
the ground when Mr. Roach, emerging from the 
shadows of the woods, made his appearance. 
"Golly, boys, look what he's got!" cried out Bill 
Watkins, a good subject for reformation. "Mercy 



I06 MEMORY DAYS 

alive!" said Dick Stone, "he's bringing in switches 
the first day. That beats Jim Crow!" "Oh, 
dear, he'll kill us !" groaned little John Watson, 
a new recruit to the ranks of learning. 

We measured the young man as he approached. 
He had in his hand three long, keen rods, such as 
would make a boy dance the hornpipe in quick 
time. He was tall, black headed, fine looking, 
stepped fast, and evidently meant business. He 
spoke very pleasantly to us, entered the school- 
house, and deposited his symbols of authority in 
the corner dedicated to hold such furniture. He 
took in the architectural finish of the room, came 
out and walked around the primitive structure, 
marking the proportions thereof, and thence to the 
grand old spring. Returning to our group, which 
was fast being reinforced, he talked to us so pleas- 
antly about the surroundings of our school prais- 
ing the grove, the spring, and the pretty play- 
ground, that we began to think Uncle Frank had 
slandered him. 

Calling us in, his opening speech was to the 
point. He told us he was paid to make us learn, 
and this he certainly was going to do; that he did 
not know the king's son from the carpenter's boy 
and that the aristocracy of his school were good 
lessons and good behavior; that he and we would 



RECONSTRUCTION AT CRYSTAL SPRING IO7 

be good friends as long as we would let him be 
good to us. Then he spoke of time being worth 
gold to us, of our opportunities and the grand 
possibilities of the American boy, of high aims In 
life started even In boyhood, and he won our ap- 
probation, when, in conclusion, he said that he 
wanted to start us on a road that would lead us to 
the Legislature or to Congress. This tickled us 
boys and raised him ten degrees in our estimation. 
We had never heard such a speech before. He 
then proceeded to examine us, each one separately, 
and to class us according to the grade we had 
reached. Some were advanced and others put 
back in their studies. This was not agreeable to 
some, especially the ambitious yet not studious pu- 
pils who desired to get over ground with little 
work. Coming to Bill Watkins, a flaxen-headed 
chap of sixteen, noted for giving the teachers 
"sass," he decided to put him In a lower grade in 
spelling. Bill resented the change. "I can spell 
as well as Dick Stone. I want to go in his class!" 
"I'm running this school," said Mr. Roach, "and 
you'll go where I think you belong, sir." "Mr. 
Richeson didn't do this way," continued Bill, "and 
I ain't gwine In that class." "I'll see, young man," 
said the new pedagogue, grabbing a choice symbol 
with one hand, and Bill, by the collar, with the 



I08 MEMORY DAYS 

Other. The music on Bill's back began in quick 
measure, he keeping time by kicking, striking and 
stamping. Round and round they went, the first 
battle of the campaign. Our sympathies were with 
Bill, yet we refrained from cheering until we saw 
on which standard victory would perch. Soon Bill 
began to "boohoo" in fine style. ''Going in that 
class now, sir?" asked Mr. Roach, as he paused 
in his labors. "I dun' no," blubbered Bill. "You 
don't?" sang out the teacher and the performance 
began again, with redoubled interest. 

We boys almost held our breath, and the girls, 
pale with excitement, were huddled in one corner. 
One more round and Bill cried out, "Yas, sir, I'll 
do it. Stop, stop !" "All right," said the teacher, 
as cool as if he had been eating a peach. "Take 
your seat and get this lesson." 

Bill was conquered, and so' were the rest of us 
as regarded classification. We decided it rash in 
the extreme to pit our opinion against the teacher's, 
and felt that if we were caught in the trap it would 
be unintentional. An air of lost liberty pervaded 
the school, and the sports at recess were of a mild 
type. Yet, Mr. Roach came out on the playground 
and taught us a new game. He seemed to us a 
strange combination, like two persons, one in the 
schoolroom and the other out with the boys. We 



RECONSTRUCTION AT CRYSTAL SPRING IO9 

rather liked the latter character. By evening we 
fully realized that Mr. Roach was going to rule 
and we had to dance up to the tune of strict obedi- 
ence. '^I told you so," said Uncle Frank when I 
related to him the stirring events of the day. "You 
mischievous little rascal, he'll catch you before 
long.'- ''Not if I can help It," I replied, as the 
chorus of Bill's tune still echoed In my ears. 

Mr. Roach came home with cousins Will and 
Jennie and was there installed to board out his 
first quarter. The school session now was longer. 
The next morning Will said, "Mr. Roach just 
chatted Cousin Hannah until I got so tired and 
sleepy waiting to show him to bed that I asked him 
if he wasn't getting sleepy. Cousin Hannah 
nearly spanked me for Interrupting the nice time 
in the parlor." The next day I noticed they had 
a big red napkin in the dinner basket and some 
half-moon pies that made my mouth water. 

On telling my mother of the first Impressions 
Mr. Roach made upon us, she said It reminded 
her of an Incident In her girlhood. 

"Our school was In bad repute," said she, "as 
some unruly boys had either run out or whipped 
out two or three teachers. For a time no one 
wanted the school. At length a big, red-headed 
Scotch-Irish teacher came along, heard the history 



no MEMORY DAYS 

of former pedagogues, and said he would take the 
school. Spending a week before the opening of 
school in visiting around, by drawing out the small 
boy in confidence he got the names of the ringlead- 
ers in the insurrections, and the character of the 
plots. He decided on a vigorous and aggressive 
policy. On the first morning of school he was on 
the ground by sunrise, cut a whole armful of rods, 
and took his seat by the door in the room to wait 
for something to develop. Soon the leaders came, 
one by one, to put the ball in motion by the time 
the teacher arrived. Seeing the open door, number 
one entered, when he was seized by the iron grasp 
of the domine, given a sound thrashing, and set 
down to a lesson. Number two, in his ignorance 
of impending danger, bounced into the room with 
a whoop, was grabbed, thrashed and set down to 
a lesson. So, numbers three and four, on to six, 
were in succession initiated in the same way, and 
when the rest of the school came they found the 
ones ^formerly possessed, healed, and clothed in 
their right minds.' He had the best school in all 
that part of the country. And I hope Mr. Roach 
will have a good one." I told her I thought it 
looked that way. 

One bright morning I was the owner of a small 
package of "candy kisses," as they were called, 



RECONSTRUCTION AT CRYSTAL SPRING III 

the pieces being small and rectangular In shape, 
wrapped In papers of pretty colors, and each pack- 
age contained a verse of tender poetry. I could 
not appreciate the poetry, but the candy and the 
name had charms for me. Joining Cousin Jennie 
on the road to school we walked along, a little dis- 
tance from the others. I enjoyed talking tO' her 
alone better than In a crowd, as somehow we liked 
to talk of things of Interest to us two rather than 
the crowd. I told her I had something good for 
her and she must give me one of the same name 
for mine. I gave her three guesses, and when she 
failed to guess I handed her the candy, telling her 
to read the name on the paper. She blushed and 
said, "I won't do It!" "You keep the candy 
kisses," I said, "and I'll steal one from you to pay 
for them." "You can't," she said with a coquet- 
tish toss of her pretty curls. I was silent, but my 
thoughts were busy devising ways and means for 
accomplishing my cherished purpose. 

On a smooth piece of road, and when close to 
her I pointed to her side of the path and said, 
"Why, just look yonder!" Of course she looked, 
and as she turned her face from me I kissed her 
flushed cheek, just above the dimple. It was so 
sweet! If the theft was a sin It was dellclously 
wicked. Said she, "You bad boy, behave your- 



112 MEMORY DAYS 

self." As I was beginning to revel in the blissful 
recollection of the kiss, a little voice piped out 
from behind a bush, "Never mind, Alex, I saw 
you kiss Jennie, and I'm going to tell, see if I 
don't." It was her little brother, who, under 
guidance of an evil spirit, was there in ambush. 
"If you do," I said, "I'll whip you." "I isn't a 
bit afraid of you," replied the little urchin. Then 
I thought of bribery. "What will you take not to 
tell?" "Gimme that candy and I won't." "We'll 
give you half, and it's so good," I said. "No, I'll 
tell if you don't gimme all." The little shylock 
was exacting, and was thus bought off. I told 
Cousin Jennie that I got the best of the bargain. 
All that day, when I'd cast an admiring glance at 
my little cousin, I noticed that her cheek was still 
tinged with the color of a red peach. 



CHAPTER XIII 

MUSTER DAY AND CIRCUS DAY 

*"Tis time short pleasure now to take. 
Of little life the best to make, 
And manage wisely the last stake." 

— Cowley. 

In Virginia, under the old regime, they had a 
"Muster Day." On this day all the able-bodied 
men between eighteen and forty-five had to as- 
semble at an appointed rendezvous to be enrolled 
and to line up in martial array. This class was 
called the "militia," the bulwark of defence for the 
country. From serving therein, preachers, teachers, 
doctors, and millers were excused. But there was 
more fun in going to muster than in staying away. 
The grounds for the regiment of our part of the 
county were near the Natural Bridge, and com- 
panies with captains came from different neigh- 
borhoods. On the day appointed, the champions 
of liberty assembled from every point of the com- 
pass, from the rich river bottoms, the mountain 
hollows, and the upland farms. A warlike man 
was the colonel of our regiment, with cocked hat 
and plume, golden epaulets and handsome sword 
8 



114 MEMORY DAYS 

dangling by his side. Mounted on a fiery steed 
he was much observed as he dashed to and fro. 
His aids, too, were conspicuous by their uniforms 
and fine steeds. At lo A. M. the adjutant went 
forth and called out in stentorian voice for the cap- 
tains to get up their companies and march them 
over into the big field to form the regiment in the 
ranks of war. Then there was a great commo- 
tion, a calling of Bill Smith, Ned Jones, Doc Wil- 
son, Hezekiah Trout and all, to get in a line. The 
captains as a rule ignored the technical terms of 
tactics and used plain English. Some tried to drill 
their men en route to the battle line. For "for- 
ward march" they'd say, "go on there, men;" for 
"quick time," "hurry up there!" and one old fel- 
low for "double-quick time," cried, "Get up and 
run like the devil!" and the best man kept several 
steps in front. The drum beat for the companies to 
form the regiment, and the adjutant got them into 
a long line and saluted the colonel. This officer 
then drew his sword, and waving it over his head 
shouted, "Forward, march!" The drums beat 
and the fifes blew, but nearly every fellow had a 
step of his own and the line bent and swayed until 
it looked like the worm of a rail fence. The 
colonel, too, thought plain English better for the 
average plebeian to understand, and cried out, 



MUSTER AND CIRCUS DAYS II5 

"Stop there. Get In a straight line again." The 
line backed and twisted, surged to right and left, 
until It got fairly straight. Next the colonel 
ordered, "Right face," when about half of them 
turned to the left! "Don't you know your right 
hands from your left," he cried. In trying to have 
the companies "right wheel Into line" he called out, 
"Bring your companies around one behind the 
other," and they all got so mixed up that he had 
to get each captain to call his men out of the boil- 
ing mixture, reform, and get them Into regimental 
line. In facing from front to left an amateur 
soldier with heavy shoe stepped on the toe of a 
barefooted mountaineer. "Ouch!" cried the vic- 
tim, and planted his fist between the eyes of the of- 
fender, who fell in an inglorious heap. But quick 
as a flash he was on his feet, and a civil war be- 
gan then and there. "Cease fighting!" shouted the 
colonel, and both were put under arrest and sent 
to the guard-house, the receptacle for all evil doers 
and insubordinate spirits. 

After a couple of hours of marching and coun- 
termarching, of involutions and evolutions, the 
colonel said he was proud of his regiment and 
felt sure that at war's alarm it would rush to the 
front and win a bloody field. Then with his staff 
he galloped around the line, followed by a cloud of 



Il6 MEMORY DAYS 

dust, and reining up in front, courteously lifted his 
hat and shouted, "Break ranks; march! I'm done 
with you now." They understood, and at once 
acted. 

And I remember there was a company of volun- 
teer horsemen — we called them a "troop" — who 
had flashy uniforms, hats with pretty plumes, and 
prancing horses, and they made a fine appearance 
as they swept across the field and executed some 
manoeuvres. Then the meeting was changed into a 
social affair. The crowd rallied in the shady grove 
adjoining the field, where refreshments of various 
kinds were served with lavish hand. There was 
the ginger cake stand by the barrel of spicy cider, 
the pie counter with rich milk, the tables loaded 
with fried chicken and biscuit. There were also 
"blind tigers," whose wares had an exhilarating 
effect on drooping spirits, and on the principle that 
"stolen waters are sweet," these springs were well 
patronized. Now and then some thirsty militiaman 
would imbibe too freely and, thinking it was the 
glorious Fourth, proceed to make a patriotic ad- 
dress. It was noticed that the eye of our gallant 
colonel, later in the day, had an unusual lustre, and 
his tongue a fluency bordering on the unusual 
Over on the left was the horse traders' ring, where 
the jockeys held high carnival. The ordinary 



MUSTER AND CIRCUS DAYS II7 

jockey Is a rival of Ananias, but the higher toned 
ones are reticent as to defects In their goods, and 
only answer questions, leaving It to the purchaser 
to discover flaws, If any. If a horse has a blind 
eye and you do not see It, It Is your fault, as pur- 
chaser or trader, and not his ! 

Over on the right was a race track where speed 
was tested In horseflesh, and money, from a dime 
to a ten-dollar note, was often risked on the race. 
Surely It was exciting to see the dust fly from the 
heels of the flying coursers, and sometimes to see an 
old horse, apparently nothing but a stack of bones, 
sweep ahead, seemed really marvellous. 

In keeping with the martial spirit of the day, 
often the sheriff or constable, those sworn officers 
of the law, would have to visit the skirmish line 
and command peace between belligerent parties. 
By the setting of the sun the victory was won, and 
the victorious legions were marching for the home 
camps. Those old "muster days," though not 
always cloudless, nor free from wrong, still had a 
charm about them. I should mention that It was a 
holiday for the slaves, and the negro men attended 
the muster In crowds. Sambo showed his white 
teeth In a broad grin as he saw ''Ole Marse," out 
in the field drilling, or "Young Marse" galloping 
over the field In the plumed and gallant troop. 



Il8 MEMORY DAYS 

What these faithful people saw and heard there 
that day furnished food for pleasant talk for days 
and weeks. 

And the advent of the circus, too, made a flutter 
in all grades of societ}'^, from the stately mansion 
to the hut of the mountaineer. Saint and sinner 
met on common ground in the ringmaster's tent. 
For weeks before the circus was to come every 
old stable or blacksmith shop by the roadside 
blazed with flaming pictures of the wonders to be 
seen on that eventful day. The lazy schoolboy 
showed a new zeal in spelling out and reading 
these posters. The circus had a few animals along 
to ease the conscience of the morally straight-laced, 
who would go just to see the natives of the forest, 
and could not help seeing the ring performances ! 
"Happy day in the morning!" if the sun rose clear. 
Only men trooped along the roads to the muster 
grounds, but on this great day, men, women, and 
children came early to the show grounds, and 
stayed most of the day. 

Speaking of the circus signs, I am reminded of 
an old shoemaker, in a certain village, who had 
full sway in his trade. A new man, who knew 
some Latin, came and set up shop opposite the old 
veteran's. On the new sign were these words, 
^'Mens conscia rectV^ ; i. e., a mind conscious of 



MUSTER AND CIRCUS DAYS II9 

right, meaning that honesty was his policy. The 
old fellow eyed the flaming sign closely, scratched 
his head and thought a long while. Then his 
sign went to the painter, and came back with these 
words, ^'Men's women's and children's conscia 
recti." He won in the race. 

To the circus came many men with many 
motives. There was the confidence man, the melon 
man, the trickster, gamester, jewelry man, and the 
patent medicine man, all running a lively business 
before the doors were opened. 

The great tent erected, the band struck up and 
the performance began. I was ten years old when 
I saw my first circus. My uncle, whom I was 
visiting, took me, and it was a red-letter day for 
me. I remember it all — everything they did and 
almost all they said. First twenty horsemen, gaily 
dressed, came prancing in on richly caparisoned 
horses, and in a dashing way executed figures that 
almost made my head swim. The feats of horse- 
manship, of leaping, and of strength that followed 
made me rub my eyes and wonder If they were 
really so. The boy who turned summerset 
through a paper hoop from a galloping horse and 
lighted on the horse again, unhurt, made me think 
he would be governor some day. He was a hero 
in my estimation. A young woman who rode wore 



I20 MEMORY DAYS 

her dress so short that a child in the crowd called, 
"It's a little girl!" I thought she had outgrown 
her dress, and I noticed some ladies near me get 
red in the face. I enjoyed the old clown. In giv- 
ing the views of the circus, which he pretended 
were gathered from different churches, he said the 
Presbyterians stood on the corner as the proces- 
sion passed, and got all they could without paying 
anything for it. He missed it with my uncle, who 
was an old blue-stocking. Then the clown tried to 
buy a fine horse from the ringmaster. The price 
was agreed on and the old fellow said he was 
"powerful glad" at the purchase. Said the ring- 
master," The money, $150, please, sir." "Oh, I'm 
so absent-minded," and he felt in all his pockets, 
but no money ! "Got no money with me." "Then 
you can't have the horse," said the ringmaster. 
Sadly he looked on the ground for a few moments, 
and then, clapping his hands in great glee, he cried 
out, "Why, I see how to fix it. I'll give you my 
note." "It isn't worth anything," said the ring- 
master. "Yes it is, you bet. Why everybody down 
in my county has got it." He didn't get the horse. 
If all along the way of life I had remembered 
things good and elevating, as well as I remember 
the clown's jokes on that day, I would have made 
a wiser and better man. 



CHAPTER XIV 

SCHOOL AMUSEMENTS 

"Pleasure with instruction should be join'd; 
So take the corn and leave the wine behind." 

— Dryden. 

Our school sessions now began about the middle 
of August, and, extending on through the winter, 
ended the last of May. Thus we took a deeper 
drink from the fountain of letters, and afterward 
could take practical lessons in the art of farming. 
Talents for such were displayed in the corn and 
harvest fields, and in the meadow. On the river 
farms the older boys worked along with the slaves, 
and my boyhood was far happier than some town 
youths, who spent their days hunting for something 
with which to kill time. 

New sports were introduced upon our play- 
ground, such as "hop scotch," "quoits," "comer 
ball," and "town ball." In the early part of the 
session the games were mostly confined to the 
shade, that of marbles being a favorite. Knocking 
out the middle man at the first shot, thus winning 
the game, was considered a feat of more renown 
than spelling "phthisic" or working an example in 



122 MEMORY DAYS 

fractions. For one to "poke/' i. e., to move his 
hand toward his opponent's marble before shoot- 
ing, was a violation of the code of honor in the 
game. If a juvenile of lax morals was seen to in- 
fringe upon this regulation his ears were saluted 
with the cry, "Vent your poking!" and he drew 
back to the true line. I do not remember ever play- 
ing for "keeps." No such spirit of gambling per- 
vaded the game in those good old days. 

As the leaves took on the variegated hues of 
autumn, the game of "town ball" was introduced 
among us. This was the forerunner of modem 
base ball, and much akin to it. We used flat bats 
and home-made balls. The excitement of running 
around the corners and taking in a player was as 
great as now makes the ball grounds ring with 
cheers. We had no "fouls;" a boy could knock a 
ball to Jericho if he was able and it would be all 
right. Often a good player left alone on one side 
would knock the ball in an unexpected direction, 
and before it could reach the ring again he had 
taken in half of his side, as the air rang with 
shouts. Sometimes in the midst of an exciting 
game the call to "books" would be put off, thanks 
to the interest and consideration of our teacher. 

As the days got cooler, "corner ball" offered 
more exercise of muscle, and was installed as a 



SCHOOL AMUSEMENTS 1 23 

favorite. A ring of corner bases was described, 
two captains selected the players on each side, and 
possession of the corners was won by lot. The 
winning side on the corners, and the others in the 
ring, the fun began. Back and forth, round and 
round, the ball is thrown from corner to corner, 
until it is styled "hot ball," when the commotion in 
the ring is increased by a "whack" of the ball on 
the back of some boy, and away scamper the cor- 
ner players. Then should a ring player hit a run- 
ning corner fellow, the cry of "run boys !" is raised 
and the tide turns. The last boy struck lost his 
place. It was a spicy game on a cool day, and had 
a peculiar fascination for me. 

Our teacher now and then took part in our 
games, and he still retained our respect; in fact it 
increased our esteem for him. His presence on the 
ground kept down a multitude of sins. The school 
now was on a higher plane, the discipline better, 
the studying closer, and there was springing up in 
our hearts a certain pride in Crystal Spring Semi- 
nary. Once and awhile some lad affected with mis- 
chief, habitual idleness, or violation of some special 
rule, was healed by a prescription of Dr. Birch, 
who still had his office in the southeast corner, 
ready and willing to treat and cure diseases incident 
to original sin. 



124 MEMORY DAYS 

I always knew my lessons, but, through a love of 
mischief, I was often the recipient of some tender 
attentions from that famous physician. One 
day a class of little fellows were sitting on the reci- 
tation bench, their bare feet and legs dangling 
down. The teacher being called outside, I took a 
keen ' switch and, by tapping their bare ankles, 
made It very lively for those unwashed extremities. 
A very picnic of fun was I having when a hand was 
laid upon my shoulder and a familiar voice said, 
"Let me have that Instrument." "Yes, sir," said I, 
and nerved myself for the bout. "Time about is 
fair play," said the teacher, and I danced to the 
music for a few long moments, to the great de- 
light of my former victims. Jane Trent was a big, 
red-headed, angular, mountain girl. Ill-natured 
and meddlesome. I did not admire this rustic 
lass, and delighted to tease or worry her. Once 
or twice, when too practical in some prank, a 
smack from her big hand came near causing my 
head and heels to exchange places. One cold day 
she and I were sitting on opposite sides of the tall, 
old-fashioned stove, on whose top lay ashes and 
cinders. Her big gray eyes were in line with the 
top, and, as she said something to ruffle my feel- 
ings, I just blew across the surface and a cloud of 
dust swept Into her organs of vision. Clawing 



SCHOOL AMUSEMENTS 1 25 

at her eyes with her long, bony fingers she cried 
out in agony, "Oh, Lordy, he's blinded me! I'll 
tear his eyes out!" I was wicked enough to smile 
almost audibly at her sad condition, when there 
came floating across the room the invitation, 
"Come up here, sir." I went, I saw, I suffered! 
For a week I steered clear of Miss Jane. 

Dick Blackburn was a heavy-set young man 
striving to read in the New Testament as a text- 
book. His favorite place on a cold day was on the 
end of a high bench by the stove, where he sat with 
his feet elevated on the front plate, his elbows on 
his knees, his chin resting in one hand and the 
worn Testament in the other. One gloomy, sad 
day I was going to put some wood in the stove, 
and listening to the tempter, gave the end of the 
bench a sudden jerk, and down came chin, elbows, 
knees and Testament, a confused mass of matter, 
shaking the house "from turret tO' foundation 
stone." Dick looked at me, and thought unutter- 
ably wicked things as he floundered around on the 
floor preparatory to coming to the surface again. 
The whole school tittered, and I giggled. Mr. 
Roach, who had seen the whole performance, 
called me up, got his hickory rod, but to my relief 
his risibles were so excited over the ridiculous 
aspect of the case that he only warned me against 



126 MEMORY DAYS 

such a sin In the future. I felt better, but that 
evening, when old Dick caught me, I had to beg 
like a fine fellow to avert a good paddling. 

Similar feats were performed by my fellows, I 
presume, but my own are more vivid to me as I 
look back over the years that Intervene. The bit- 
ter and the sweet were Intermingled In those days, 
but the sweet filled up life to such an extent that 
the bitter left no taste. 



CHAPTER XV 

BARRING OUT THE TEACHER 

" O think what anxious moments pass between 
The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods! 
O 'tis a dreadful interval of time." 

—Addison. 

On the playground of Crystal Spring Seminary 
the course of true love generally ran smooth. It 
was the presence of Mr. Roach, no doubt, which 
caused the white flag to float so peacefully over 
our heads. But it is natural for boys to have 
jealousies, rivalries, dislikes and spats. If such 
there were, it was only the muttering of the storm 
that was heard in the vicinity of the seat of power, 
and it broke in its fury at a more remote distance. 
When, tO' satisfy injured feelings, blows were 
deemed necessary, then before school in the morn- 
ing or after it in the evening the warlike contest- 
ants with some friends and curious spectators re- 
paired to Dry Hollow, a hidden retreat about a 
quarter of a mile toward the mountain, and there 
the code of honor was complied with. This 
battleground trembled frequently under the 
feet of John Watkins and Bill Blackburn, two 
sturdy plow-boys from the Valley, between whom 



128 MEMORY DAYS 

a mutual dislike ripened, and they met in almost 
daily collision. "I dare you to Dry Hollow this 
evening!" one of these warlike spirits would say. 
'Til be there, and lick you, too!" the other would 
reply. School out, by different routes, to avoid 
suspicion and detection, the friends and spectators 
would gather for the fray, and at it the boys went, 
first with fists, then with sticks, then followed the 
grapple and tussle, and down they came, and the 
one on top won the victory. Be it said to the 
honor of the spectators, that their interest was 
manifested by their calls to a halt, if the fighters 
resorted to extreme measures, and not by betting 
on the result. 

John Sullivan was a true son of the Emerald 
Isle, pugnacious to the extent of tackling Goliah 
had he risen up in his path, but he had great re- 
spect for the rod in a masterly hand. Coming 
home by the river road one evening with a lot of 
us, he spoke against the honor and dignity of some 
of our homes. My brother Mac and Cousin 
Luther decided to champion the insulted side, and 
the skirmish began. After half a mile of random 
firing, as we entered a dense wood, they opened 
hot and heavy. John was a match for the two, 
with his Irish blood and dogged tenacity, but our 
side cheered on their knights. Even Cousin 



BARRING OUT THE TEACHER 1 29 

Jennie, usually so mild and gentle, entered into 
the spirit of the fight, but once she made Luther 
put down a rock. Although she wanted John 
pounded it must be done with softer material. 
Whilst Mac would engage him in front, Luther, 
by a flank movement, would pop him on the left 
wing. Wheeling to the new attack, a few well- 
directed shots made the enemy there fall back. 
Thus the tide of battle surged back and forth, and 
the ''spalpeen" was about to win. Suddenly there 
emerged from the dense bushes the figure of our 
teacher, clothed in majesty and power. Had he 
risen from the dead the consternation had not been 
greater. In a second there was a great calm. 
Then came the startling words, "Tm going to whip 
everything along this road in the morning!" and 
oflF he strode toward home. We almost held our 
breath at first, and then, as we trudged homeward, 
discussed the horrors of the situation in subdued 
tones. 

I whispered to Cousin Jennie that I was so sorry 
for her. The idea of whipping her! It must not 
be done. All at once an idea struck me, and I 
whispered to my sweet cousin, ''Say, Til take yours, 
and tell him to just give me double/* "That 
9 



130 MEMORY DAYS 

wouldn't be right," she replied. "I'll take it, if 
all do." But I held on to the idea. 

Next morning I went to school early, and waited 
for Mr. Roach at the forks of the road, for a bur- 
den was on my heart. Joining him I said, "Mr. 
Roach, I don't think Cousin Jennie deserves a 
whipping, for she made Luther put down a rock. 
And if you will whip her, please let me take hers 
too. Give me double, won't you?" Looking me 
straight in the eye, he said, "Are you in earnest?" 
"Yes, sir, I am,'^ I replied. "You are a generous 
fellow. I'll think about it." I then dropped 
behind, and left him to his thoughts. 

My offer must have softened his hard heart and 
saved us all, except the three actual lawbreakers; 
for, on opening school, he said that after consider- 
ing the matter, he would only punish the three 
boys. Although it was an October morning, John 
had on an overcoat, evidently suffering from chilli- 
ness. Mr. Roach invited him to lay it aside; 
when, lo! he had on two other coats, and two 
waistcoats! "Cold, are you, sir? I'll warm 
you up !" 

I think that was the last skirmish by the road- 
side. I was about half sorry that I couldn't show 
Jennie how much I liked her by helping to bear 
her burdens. When I told her the part I had 



BARRING OUT THE TEACHER I3I 

played she said I was good, and maybe some time 
she could help me. I was hoping for the some 
time, and my heart was lighter and my step was 
quicker. 

Mr. Roach was quite a beau in the neighbor- 
hood. He not only played the gallant to Cousin 
Hannah, but was a welcome visitor in other homes, 
where bright eyes sparkled and cheeks flushed at 
his coming. There was a family who had lately 
moved into the Valley, descendants, perchance, of 
the Scotch poet, who sang, 

"If a body meet a body a comin' thro' the rye, 
If a body kiss a body, need a body cry." 

Two sweet sisters in this home exerted a mag- 
netic influence on our dominie and a friend of his. 
On Friday evenings, after school hours, the two 
young men would direct their steps toward the 
Burns mansion. I remember an embarrassing 
scene in that home. Unseen, one cloudy evening, 
they reached the house and knocked at the door of 
the sitting-room, once, twice. There was no re- 
sponse. The third time a sweet voice called out, 
"Come in if you are g^reen, and stay out if you are 
white!'^ In the excitement of the moment, forget- 
ting on which line of color they stood, in they 
marched, and ''Oh my!" "Oh my!" greeted them, 



132 MEMORY DAYS 

and confusion, blushes, and apologies followed. 
"Why Mr. Roach," said Miss Annie, "I didn't 
dream it was yoii. I am so sorry. The children 
had been fooling us by knocking, and we thought 
they were at the door." The novelty of the recep- 
tion seemed to have deepened the devotion of the 
young men, for that very night, in a hidden nook, 
Mr. Roach's friend slipped a ring on Miss Annie's 
finger, and In a few weeks a beautiful bride was 
led away to her new home. Mr. Roach's affection 
seemed to be divided between Miss Mary B. and 
Cousin Hannah. Discussing this delicate question 
one day with Will I learned that he thought 
Mr. Roach loved Cousin Hannah the better; 
for once he heard him saying some poetry to her 
about "Eyes so bright they shine at night;" and 
then when he told her good-by he held her hand 
too long for just liking her. I told Will I didn't 
know much about these things, but I wanted 
Cousin Hannah to have a nice beau. 

"Christmas will soon be here," remarked John 
Watson one morning as we were nearing the 
school grounds. "Yes," I replied; "and I wonder 
if Mr. Roach is going to give us any holiday." 
"John, he's boarding at your house; don't you 
know anything about It?" "No, but I heard him 
say that children got as wild as colts when they 



BARRING OUT THE TEACHER 1 33 

had too much holiday, and had to be broken in 
again." "Well, that just means he'll not give us 
any," said Cousin Will. *'I tell you what, boys, 
let's 'bar' him out. Pa said he and Cousin Preston 
helped to do it once, and when the old fellow broke 
in they grabbed him and took him to the creek be- 
fore he'd give up." "I see you boys taking Mr. 
Roach to the creek," piped in Mary Watson. 
"He'd whip every one of you." 

We interviewed Mr. Roach on the subject, but 
learned nothing, so the plot was formed. Our 
demands, reduced to writing by one of the girls, — 
for several joined our ranks, — were a week's holi- 
day, a bushel of old man Parker's apples, and a 
stick of candy apiece, and Monday morning, a 
week before Christmas, was appointed for the out- 
break of the rebellion. By sunrise on this day the 
conspirators were on the ground, with hatchet and 
nails preparatory to the barricade. As the un- 
initiated arrived, some joined in with zeal, and 
others with faint hearts reluctantly agreed to stay 
inside. 

"Suppose he whips us all," said a pale-faced 
Valley boy. "Hush ! you little goose," said John 
Watson. "He'll not do that." "You'd better look 
out," suggested Bill Watkins. "No telling what 
he'd do if you stirred him up." Bill remembered 



134 MEMORY DAYS 

from sad experience what stirring a hornet's nest 
meant. 

"Yonder he comes!" cried the boy from the 
lookout station, and we waited with bated breath. 
"Hush! he's at the door," whispered one of the 
leaders. Finding the door barred, he knocked, 
and in a pleasant tone said, "Open the door." 
Within all was quiet as death, the timid ones hid- 
den under the writing-bench, the girls huddled in 
the darker corners, and the braver rebels at the 
posts of danger, for with them the die was cast, let 
come what would. Then Mr. Roach went to a 
window and, surveying the scene inside, the true 
situation first dawned upon him. 

In a firm tone he asked, "What are you all do- 
ing in there?" The time for action had arrived, 
and Cousin Will said, "We've got you barred out, 
and — and — ^we want holiday." "You do? Well, 
well. I'll see about it. Some of those girls put 
you all up to this." He then walked toward the 
spring, evidently to meditate upon the momentous 
question. "He's gone to get a big stick to break 
down the door," croaked one of the timid. "I wish 
I was out of here!" "And so do I," chimed in 
two or three others. "Keep quiet, you cowards," 
said a leader. "Here he comes back and no stick 
either." 



BARRING OUT THE TEACHER I35 

Upon Mr. Roach's asking for our request again, 
the official document was handed out. Looking 
at it he smiled and said, "Miss Hannah wrote this. 
I thought those young ladies were up to- some plot. 
Apples and candy ! Why, you'll break me. Well, 
I'll sign it if you all will promise to be good this 
week. Will you?" In the grand chorus of "We'll 
be good," that fairly made the roof shake, every 
note of the gamut was struck from the deep bass 
of old Dick up to the soprano of the girls. We 
had triumphed, and the week passed by like a 
pleasant dream, a kind of millennial period for 
our school — good lessons, punctual attendance, no 
friction and Dry Hollow a forsaken spot. Soon 
Friday evening came and then the big red apples 
and the luscious sticks of candy were fairly dealt 
out to each pupil "and all went merry as a mar- 
riage bell." 



CHAPTER XVI 

CHRISTMAS TIMES 

"Joy kneels at Morning's rosy shrine, 
In worship to the rising Sun." 

— Brooks. 

In those days we, too, heard the story of Santa 
Claus, and in our dreams heard the pattering of 
the hoofs of his reindeer steeds upon the roofs of 
our homes, but he did not bring us the rare gifts 
he now has credited to his kindly generosity. 
Stockings, small and large, were hung up, and 
fond hopes Indulged, and It needed no ringing of 
the rising bell tO' open little eyes on Christmas 
morning, and little hands went quickly to work to 
hunt for the gifts. 

I remember how I was amused at the gift to 
Miss Mary In "Major Jones' Courtship. '^ The 
Major got Miss Mary to promise to keep, all her 
life, the present he would give her. She was to 
have a very large meal sack hung up In the back 
porch. Before daylight he slipped quietly In and 
got into the sack. When they came out early to 
inspect, the mother said It was a yearling calf I 
The old negro cut It down and he fell with a bump 



CHRISTMAS TIMES 137 

and the Major rolled out covered with meal. The 
girl blushed and stuck to her promise. I thought 
I'd prefer a summer night to make such a present. 

Rabbit hunting was an ideal sport Christmas 
week, and Uncle Frank declared that if we only 
could get some salt on old Molly's cotton-tail she 
could be easily caught ! 

There were little folks' parties with plays, rid- 
dles, chestnuts, and the juvenile gambling game 
of ^'Jack in the bush." I remember how, one 
night, I came near winning all the nuts in the room 
before my trick was discovered. It was to have a 
few nuts peep out between my closed fingers, as if 
my hands were bursting with a large number. 
Thus guesses would range from forty to sixty, and 
on opening three or four were all! The penalty 
was the difference between the two numbers, and 
my victims would fairly groan in the spirit as they 
felt for the forfeited number. A sharp, red- 
headed girl saw my plan, and caught me in my 
own trap, winning about fifty at one play. 

I was the fortunate possessor of a book of rid- 
dles, enigmas, and conundrums. I pored over this 
rare volume in advance of the juvenile parties, and, 
being crammed, could take the lead in asking 
knotty questions. One night at Cousin William's 
I asked Mr. Roach to conjugate ice-cream. He 



138 MEMORY DAYS 

said he couldn't, and I said, "I scream, you scream, 
he screams." "You're getting most smart enough 
to graduate in grammar," replied my honored in- 
structor. 

A Christmas tree was unheard of in our neigh- 
borhood. But this year a German boarding at 
my father's superintended the decorating of one 
at our home. It was mostly fixed up behind the 
curtain, and when the hour came for the play to 
begin the dining-room door was thrown open and 
my cousins and the home squad marched in with 
wondering eyes and exclamations of surprise. 
There stood a miniature cedar tree, brilliantly 
lighted with wax tapers, strings of popped corn 
and wreaths of highly colored paper encircling 
its well-rounded shape, and apples, candies, and 
cakes dangling from its limbs. It was a new cre- 
ation to us and we were introduced into a new 
world of pleasure. Cousin Jennie said it looked 
like a picture of Fairy Land. I told her she'd 
have to be the fairy. Aunt Eliza, the cook, ex- 
claimed, ''La's a mercy, chillun, it's too purty to 
look at." Old Uncle Humphrey, peeping in the 
door, rubbed his hands, exclaiming, "My stars I it 
beats my time." 

In those good old days the slaves enjoyed the 
holiday week as much as their masters. Christ- 



CHRISTMAS TIMES 1 39 

mas morning, before daylight, they would slip into 
the house, tiptoe to the bedroom doors and catch, 
"Christmas gift!" They always got something, 
which, though trivial, gave them pleasure. They 
had their little gatherings and a well-laden table 
was furnished by the mistress. The banjo, the 
bones, and patting the knee furnished music for 
these light-hearted creatures. It was better than 
a circus to see them play and dance at these gath- 
erings. I am thinking of an occasion of merry- 
making at my cousin's. In the kitchen about 
twenty or thirty of them were having a jolly time, 
when a big basket of apples and cakes from the 
dining-room appeared on the scene. The merri- 
ment subsided and they all proceeded to feast. In 
the mean time Cousin Hannah had made a "horse 
head," a frightful looking thing, made of a pil- 
low, tongs, and red flannel. The flannel was cut 
to represent ears, eyes, nose, and teeth, and it was 
tacked on the pillow. It was enough to have 
made a Mexican war veteran tremble had he met 
it in a lonely spot. Followed by a lot of us youngs- 
ters to see the fun. Cousin Hannah went around 
to the back window, and, as some one threw the 
sash open on its hinges, she thrust the frightful 
thing in before the gaze of the terrified darkies. 
Expressions of "Oh Lordy!" "De Lawd hab 



I40 MEMORY DAYS 

mussy!" "De Debll's comin' !" filled the room, a 
rush was made for the door, and a stampede to the 
cabins followed. The larger and stronger finally 
rallied In Uncle Reuben's cabin, and the walllngs 
of the younger ones, who, being upset In the rush 
of older companions, were bringing up the rear, 
made the night hideous. The prank explained, 
with "Haw-haws!" "What you niggers run fur?" 
"Shure enough I thought old Satan was comIn' In 
dat window !" "Bet, you just butt me clean over !" 
"See Jim clear dat fence!" they all came back to 
the banquet-hall and resumed their pleasure. The 
darkles were firm believers In ghosts and "ha'nts." 
The older ones could tell of some wonderful appa- 
ritions seen by them — a headless man, woman In 
white with eyes of fire, a dancing skeleton and 
such things. They were noted for roaming around 
at night, but they would go a mile out of the way 
to avoid a graveyard. A necklace of diamonds 
on a tombstone was safe at night from any negro 
thief. 

Happy beings, you rocked my cradle, you 
played with me In childhood, you nursed me in 
sickness, you wept by the coffins of my pets, you 
cared for me In storm and sunshine, and I shall al- 
ways remember you with the most grateful affec- 
tion. 



CHRISTMAS TIMES I4I 

When I go to visit the graves of the dear old 
home folks I also go to the graves of Uncle Hump- 
hrey and Aunt Eliza, and as memory brings these 
old friends before me with their patient services, 
my eyes grow moist and my tears fall. Quietly 
they sleep on the brow of the hill, and the sweet 
briar and the wild honeysuckle cover their graves. 
And I think that up Yonder these two humble 
servants may be singing with "Marse Preston" 
and "Miss Hannah" even as they used to sing with 
them at family worship on Sabbath mornings in 
the dear Christian home near the banks of the 
James. 



CHAPTER XVII 

THE DEATH ANGEL 

"O, not in cruelty, not in wrath, 
The Reaper came that day; 
'Twas an Angel visited the green earth 
And took the flower away!" 

— Longfellow. 

Our beautiful Valley was an ideal spot for 
health. No school in the land had as few ab- 
sences on account of serious cases of illness. Now 
and then the small boy, having feasted too greed- 
ily on green apples, or eaten too' much melon, 
would be "doubled up" from cramps, or have a 
spell of cholera-morbus. The unhappy victim 
was then treated to a few drops of turpentine, a 
blue pill and a dose of castor oil. The prescription 
invariably effected a cure, and the cure was fol- 
lowed by a song of thanksgiving for having sur- 
vived both disease and remedy, and a solemn 
vow never again to be imprudent. It was fun to 
see the other fellow tackle the oil, his pleading 
looks cast toward the ceiling, most agonized coun- 
tenance, violent gesticulations, and manifold gyra- 
tions, as, spinning around on a pivot, he strove to 
keep the abominable thing down. The whole 



THE DEATH ANGEL 1 43 

scene was voted almost equal tO' the circus. In 
winter the cure for a '^cold" was to "bake" the 
feet before a hot fire, then jump into bed and cover 
up head and heels — "all over." For a sore throat 
the good mother gave the sufferer, on retiring at 
night, a good dose of hot red-pepper tea, and 
bound the swollen throat with a woolen stocking. 
There was virtue in the treatment and I speak 
from a warm experience in the matter. For on 
one dark night, when I had expressed doubts and 
made opposition beyond the line of forbearance, 
acute arguments were used which induced me to 
reconsider my course and to yield in the matter. 
The combined warmth of both applications work- 
ed a marvelous cure, and by morning I was well. 
One morning in November John Watson, whose 
father was a doctor, announced that scarlet fever 
was in the neighborhood just across the river, and 
that some children had died. Then there was a 
hush in the merry talk and a serious air pervaded 
the little group of girls and boys standing by the 
big log fire in our schoolroom. It was a cloudy, 
gloomy day, and something seemed to whisper 
coming evil. The next day nearly every pupil 
had a little bag containing brimstone and assa- 
foetida suspended around his neck. This was a 
jialisman to ward off the disease, and many of the 



144 MEMORY DAYS 

faithful believers In the preventative showed their 
devotion by frequent sniffing of the aromatic con- 
tents of the bag. 

The next morning Cousin William met us at his 
gate and told us not to come In, as Luther had 
scarlet fever. It made us turn pale, and on 
we hurried to tell the sad news at school. And 
as I thought of the fever being right In Cousin 
Jennie's home, and that she perhaps would take 
It, I was sorely troubled In my heart. Our teacher 
said that the germs were In the air, that It was "an 
epidemic," a new word to our ears, and that stop- 
ping from school would not keep us from having 
It, as we all had to breathe the air. In a few days 
nearly all the children at Cousin William's were 
down with the fever, but It seemed to be a mild 
type. It was a long, sad week to us at school. 
We were listless In our studies, and our teacher, 
In sympathy with us, relaxed much from his strict 
standard. There were many vacant seats In the 
room. Next the fever got Into the Valley, and 
then for two weeks there was no school When 
the early violets began to peep forth In the warm, 
sunny corners the disease had run Its course and 
all were well at my cousin's. I was rejoiced to see 
Jennie again, looking only a little pale, and I 
brought her a little bouquet made up of violet^ 



THE DEATH ANGEL 1 45 

and dogwood blossoms tied with a cotton string. 
Her smile of appreciation more than paid me for 
the trouble I had when the old dogwood limb 
broke. 

But our sky was not cloudless. Rumors reached 
us that Lucy McFarland was very ill with the 
fever. She was an Irish girl, a little beauty of 
about nine years of age, with black, curly hair, 
dark brown eyes, cheeks like a red peach, and 
pouting lips. She was a pet with all the larger 
pupils and a universal favorite. I had often given 
her a choice apple that otherwise Cousin Jennie 
would have enjoyed. One evening the tidings 
came that Lucy was dead. When I ran in to tell 
my mother I just cried, big boy that I was, for I 
was very fond of the sweet little girl. We could 
not go to the funeral, but our thoughts were there. 

Again school opened, but the playground was 
quiet the first morning. In little groups we stood 
around and talked of little Lucy. Some of the 
larger Valley girls had been to the funeral, and 
they told us how natural she looked in her little 
coffin with white roses on her breast, and that they 
buried her in the little cemetery under a pine tree, 
and Cousin Jennie said that some day we would go 
there and put some flowers on the little grave. 
10 



146 MEMORY DAYS 

When Tom, Lucy's brother, came Mr. Roach 
shook hands with him, and stooping over whis- 
pered something in his ear. 

On opening school Mr. Roach spoke of the fe- 
ver, of the anxiety and sorrow it had brought, for 
there were several homes over the river in which 
little chairs were empty. He spoke very touch- 
ingly of the little girl whose face had helped to 
make our room bright. He said that she was 
up yonder in a city whose streets are of gold 
and whose gates are pearls. He said that he 
would always remember her with the kindliest feel- 
ings, and his words were beautiful and impressive. 
Our sympathy went right out to Tom and, at noon, 
he was the recipient of many favors and delicate 
little courtesies. There is something very tender 
in the sympathy of childhood. It does not come 
in high sounding words, nor in beautifully written 
sentences, but it beams forth in the kindly look and 
is resplendent in the kindly act. Thus, to the 
crushed and bleeding heart, it often comes as 
sweet and refreshing as the dew of the morning 
to the flower that is bent or broke. 

"No radiant pearl which crested fortune wears, 
No gem that twinkling hangs from beauty's ears, 
Not the bright stars which night's blue arch adorn, 
Nor rising sun that gilds the vernal morn, 
Shine with such lustre as the tear that flows 

Down virtue's manly cheek for others' woes." 

— Darwin. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

A WRECK AND A DEER HUNT 

"The antlered monarch of the waste 
Sprang from his heathery couch in haste. 
But ere his fleet career he took, 
The dew-drops from his flanks he shook; 
A moment listened to the cry, 
That thickened as the chase drew nigh; 
Then as the headmost foes appear'd. 
With one brave bound the copse he cleared." 

— Scott. 

South of my home, In graceful outlines, rose the 
ridges and peaks of the Blue Ridge. At Balcony 
Falls, In a gap worn out In the ages past, the 
James River dashes through the mountain ranges. 
Across the stream, just as It enters this mountain 
channel, a large dam was built to form a sheet of 
water above, on which boats might ride. When 
the river was much swollen the water, as It poured 
over, boiled up below almost to the height of the 
structure. 

On one occasion when the river was up a large 
freight-boat got adrift above, and, at the mercy 
of a high wind and strong current, drifted down 
toward the dam. Aboard were some negro hire- 
lings returning home, as It was Christmas week. 
Some of them jumped Into the Icy water and tried 



148 MEMORY DAYS 

to swim to land but were drowned. The captain 
headed the boat for the dam and awaited the fear- 
ful plunge. The boat made the leap, plunged 
into the seething waters, but stemmed the tide and 
gallantly rode on below, down the roaring stream, 
seemingly into the very jaws of death. When it 
passed close to Velvet Rock, whose moss-covered 
top was only a few inches above the water, some 
of the half-crazed negroes jumped on the rock. 
On the doomed boat sped, until it crashed upon 
a sloping rock just above the surface of the stream, 
wrecking the front part. Every one jumped on 
the rock. The hinder part of the boat staggered 
for a few minutes, and then, swept around by the 
current, it broke off from the wrecked part and 
was hurled away to its doom. The evening was 
cold and the wind biting, and, as the water was 
rising, the men would either freeze or be washed 
off. 

The news flew in every direction, and hundreds 
rushed to the scene. To get a rescuing boat to the 
imprisoned men required an experienced and skill- 
ful hand. There seemed to be but one man equal 
to the emergency. He was Sam Padget, an old 
negro boatman who knew well the channel and its 
dangers. "Will you go, Sam?" asked a dozen 
men at one time. "Yaas, sir; sure I will. I can't 



A WRECK AND A DEER HUNT 1 49 

Stand here an' see dem poor men drown." Then 
taking a large canoe up the stream above Velvet 
Rock, he floated safely down to it and took In the 
four men who were on the rock. To get to the 
shore through the rocks and whirling waters 
seemed an Impossible feat. Down he came, grad- 
ually nearing the shore. At last the boat touched 
the bank and they were safe. ''Bress de good 
Lawd fer dat!" sang out an old darky as he 
jumped once more on terra firma. Everybody 
praised Sam, and after resting a few minutes he 
started out for the lower rock where the wreck 
was. Down he drifted thither, took In four men 
and landed them safe. The crowd made the 
mountain hollows echo with their cheers. Two 
more trips are made and only two are left. They 
cheer at every return. 

"Sam, aren't you tired?" asks somebody. 
*'Yaas, boss, I mus' rest a little." And putting 
his head In his hands, with elbows on his knees, he 
rested some twenty minutes. Was the brave, faith- 
ful man praying for strength and safety In the last 
trip? 

It was twilight, and the dangers Increased. 
Rising he said, "Fse ready. I'll try to get them, 
too." "Hurrah! he has got them!" cried some 
one. On he came, nearer and nearer tO' the shore, 



150 MEMORY DAYS 

and the great crowd almost held its breath. But 
when within a few yards of the bank a whirling 
current suddenly hurled the little boat upon a half- 
hidden rock. It upset and the men were thrown 
into the icy waters, where, struggling for a few 
seconds, they sank to rise no more! A wail of 
sorrow swept over that great throng, and tears 
flowed freely. Later there was a handsome monu- 
ment erected near the spot, a monument travelers 
can see to-day as they pass. The lines of inscrip- 
tion read, "To the memory of Sam Padget, who 
lost his life in rescuing men from a wrecked boat." 
And he was a hero. 

One bright morning in the summer of 1852 my 
keen eye caught sight of a flag floating from the 
summit of a peak that rose abruptly from the 
water's edge just above the dam. Most beautifully 
did its graceful folds sport with the mountain 
breeze. I looked at it long, and with wonder and 
admiration. Said my father, "It is a Whig flag to 
help rally the voting boys." On the morning after 
the election, as if conscious of victory, it seemed to 
float more proudly than ever. It waved on until 
the sleeting rains and winds of winter tore it from 
its staff. 

My father remarked one day to Cousin Wil- 
liam, a Democrat, "The prettiest thing George 



A WRECK AND A DEER HUNT 151 

Washington ever said was 'Give me a banner to 
plant on the mountains of West Augusta, and I'll 
rally around me men who will lift our bleeding 
country from the dust and set her free.' So this 
general of whiggism [Taylor] literally planted a 
banner on the mountain and rallied around it 
voters who lifted his bleeding party from the dust 
and set her free." 

From my earliest childhood I had a curiosity 
to climb the splendid mountain ridge that lay 
sleeping just south of our home. Finally my fa- 
ther gave his permission and my brother and I, 
taking the dogs and following a cattle trail, 
reached the lofty summit. I expected to see, be- 
yond, broad farms and beautiful homes as in our 
Valley. But I saw only mountain ridges and peaks 
in endless chains. It reminded me of the Delect- 
able Mountains in Pilgrim's Progress, of which 
my mother had read to me and shown me their pic- 
ture. I could see little valleys or coves between 
the longer ridges, running toward the west, with 
sparkling streams, and open spaces covered with 
grass dotted here and there. My father told me 
that in these coves were the favorite haunts of the 
deer. 

Deer-hunting was indulged in chiefly by those 
who kept packs of hounds. The deer, when not 



152 MEMORY DAYS 

alarmed and feeding, may be approached within 
easy shooting range in this manner. The deer 
grazes for half a minute, and then, throwing up 
his head, sniffs the air, scenting danger. Getting 
on the leeward side, with hat off and arms and 
gun close by his side so as to look like a post, the 
hunter steps softly toward the deer just as its head 
goes down to graze, and stopping as the head 
comes up. Thus by close watching and patience 
he gets nearer and nearer the game, when, as the 
head goes down, quick as a flash, bang! goes the 
gun and over falls the prize. Such victories are 
rarely won. 

The kind of deer-hunting furnishing, perhaps, 
the most sport is called "driving." Let me de- 
scribe it. On the appointed day the hunters and 
hounds rally at the house of Captain Burks near 
the head of the Valley, and the campaign is 
planned. Two strong men, as "drivers," are to 
take the dogs and, entering the coves several miles 
west of the river, they are to come down until a 
deer is started, and then aim to drive it by the 
"stands." These are places where hunters await 
the coming of the deer, and some are on either side 
of the peak on which we saw the flag floating. It 
seems the deer have regular routes for running to 
the river on either side of this mountain. 



A WRECK AND A DEER HUNT 1 53 

The drivers blow their horns and the hounds, 
eager for the hunt, respond in a chorus that is 
music to the hunter's ear. Off they go, and plunge 
into the depths of the woods. Over the wooded 
hills and along the streams the dogs search for the 
game, scattering far and wide unless blown in by 
the driver's horn. The yelping of the pack in the 
north cove is a sign that a deer has been started. 
The dogs in the south cove are blown in, so as 
to head off the game if it crosses the ridge and 
turns to the west. Now the music begins. Soon 
it is seen that the deer is taking the line for the 
"stands" north of the peak. Outrunning the dogs 
it will often turn up some ravine and, in the dense 
laurel thickets, try to hide from its pursuers. On 
the bare rocks and in the water the dogs often 
lose the trail and much time is lost. Again the 
chase begins, and over Hell Gate Hollow and 
across the huckleberry ridges the panting buck 
comes, nearer and nearer to his doom. Most of 
the day Is spent In getting the deer on the "last 
run." On the "stands" men are alert, hearing 
the baying of the hounds. Rhodes, in the first 
stand, cocks his gun and holds his breath. But, 
bad luck, the deer is bearing too far toward the 
mountain. He aims and fires, but on leaps the 
frightened animal. Stone, in the second stand, 



154 MEMORY DAYS 

braces himself behind his tree and right toward 
him comes the deer. When within a few yards 
Stone steps out, aims, and the old rifle "flashes in 
the pan," as the old flintlocks would sometimes 
do', and on bounds the fine buck. Stone throws his 
hat on the ground, stamps his foot and utters lan- 
guage not becoming a Christian ! Parks, on the 
last stand, with nerves at highest tension, knows 
that if he misses the day is lost. Leaning across 
a large rock, to insure a steady aim, he fires, and 
the "monarch of the herd" comes to the ground. 

"Hurrah for me! I got him!" 

"You'd not done it if my cussed old gun hadn't 
missed fire," growls Stone. 

Here come the dogs. Sounder in the lead, and 
gathering around they bark their delight at the 
success of the hunt, until, hushed to silence, they 
lie around panting with tongues lolling out. 

"All hands to Paxton's Spring, for I'm nearly 
dead for a drink," shouts Burks, the leader of the 
band, and with the deer across his horse he leads 
the way. 

At the spring the tired hunters first quench their 
thirst out of the old gourd, and sitting around dis- 
cuss the events of the day. Moved by the spirit, 
Captain Burks says, "Let's have some 'grog,' 
boys." "All right," respond the others in a lively 



A WRECK AND A DEER HUNT 1 55 

chorus. Whereupon, producing a flask of "moun- 
tain dew," he mixes an unspiritual combination 
known as "grog," which seems to give new life 
to the tired huntsmen. 



CHAPTER XIX 

WINTER SPORTS 

"'It snows!' cries the school-boy, 'Hurrah!' and his shout 
Is ringing through parlor and hall, 
While swift as the wing of a swallow, he's out. 

And his playmates have answered his call; 
It makes the heart leap but to witness their joy; 

Proud wealth has no pleasures, I trow, 
lyike the rapture that throbs in the pulse of the boy, 
As he gathers his treasures of snow!" 

— Mrs. Hale. 

Very pleasant to me Is the recollection of a snow- 
storm in the old Valley. All night long the flakes 
had been falling thick and fast, and quietly cover- 
ing the earth with a mantle of white, and it looked 
so pure and beautiful as, in the early morning, I 
first saw it on the window sill. The cedar trees 
in the yard, drooping under their crystal burdens, 
presented grotesque figures, and far up on the 
mountain sides the old pines stood, proudly ar- 
rayed in white. Visions of untold pleasures swept 
across the minds of us boys, and we fairly clapped 
our hands in glee. The clouds had gone, and the 
sun arose, flooding the earth with a splendor daz- 
zling to behold. The winter birds were flitting 
from tree to tree, chirping In cheerful notes, or 



WINTER SPORTS 1 57 

seeking the barn and surrounding sheds in search 
of food. 

In those days snow did not interfere with the 
attendance upon school. Except the smaller ones, 
the pupils all came, some on horses, some in 
sleighs, and some bravely trudged through the 
snow. A roaring fire was soon kindled and a space 
before the door swept or shovelled away. Then 
began the fun of snow-balling. The boy who 
could make a hard ball, and, in throwing, make a 
center shot was the hero. As the negro boys who 
came to take the horses and sleighs home started 
back, they were followed by a shower of balls, and 
their ducking of heads and doubling up in dodg- 
ing was prime fun for the boys. Here was a duel 
between two veterans, and the balls flew thick and 
fast until one gradually retreated. Here a half 
dozen smaller boys had attacked a larger one, in 
front, on the flank, and in rear, pelting him with a 
storm of shot and shell that soon made him take 
refuge behind a big tree. 

At the noon recess the firing along the skirmish 
line was resumed, and both muscle and lungs did 
good work. Then some budding military genius 
would propose a battle with balls. Sides were 
chosen, the lines drawn, and the battle began. As 
the boy who was hit had to fall out of line as 



158 MEMORY DAYS 

wounded, good marksmanship was at a premium. 
Soon the lines were thinned down to two to one. 
Pop, pop ! went the guns, and one of the two fell. 
Then came the tug of war, each side cheering on 
its champion. Cool and collected, they aimed and 
shot, but by skillful dodging the balls skimmed by. 
One boy stepping on a rock, lost his balance. 
"Zip !" went the ball of his opponent against his 
side, and the victorious army made the grove ring. 
I had just read in the life of Napoleon Bona- 
parte, of the snow fort at Brienne, and how he 
captured it, and I proposed our making one. All 
worked like bees, and soon a rude imitation was 
piled up and named "Fort Defiance." The late 
victorious army was to man the works, and ours 
was to storm them. Their banner, planted on the 
wall, was a yellow handkerchief, ours a red 
one. The attack began by a shower of balls from 
long range aimed especially at the flag on the ram- 
part. Its staff tottered, and down it fell amid our 
cheers. We charged up closer, but a well-directed 
fire from the garrison checked our advance, and 
soon we fell back to the first line, for there were 
two lefthanded boys in the fort whose aim was 
deadly. Again we charged, but again retreated. 
I told our captain of Napoleon's plan. Six good 
throwers were selected to move quickly to the rear 



WINTER SPORTS I 59 

and attack that point vigorously, as we made 
another charge in front. Being hit in the breast 
and back at the same time was more than mortal 
boy could stand, and soon the red flag waved over 
the captured fort. 

In due time, of course, a crust was frozen on 
the top of the snow strong enough for coasting. 
Instead of the fancy sleds of modern times, we 
had plain ones, or light poplar planks, planed on 
the bottom, curved in front, and with small blocks 
nailed thereon. On these we could "fairly fly" 
down a hill. 

A long bench dragged up the hill near by, and 
holding about twenty boys and girls, packed on 
like sardines, furnished more fun than any other 
coasting arrangement. Down the slope it glided 
with its merry freight, and as its speed slackened 
somewhat at the foot of the hill sometimes the en- 
gineer at the rear end, by a quick movement of his 
foot, caused the bench to wheel around, turn over 
and dump its cargo pell-mell, heels over head, on 
the snow. From this crash of heads and wreck 
of matter the juveniles would extricate themselves 
with few bruises and in different frames of mind. 
Some were laughing, some were mortified at the 
undignified performance, and others were indig- 
nant almost to the point of capsizing "the en- 



l60 MEMORY DAYS 

gineer," as the rear boy was called. Cousin Jennie 
vowed she would never ride again if Sel Brafford 
was the guide. Yet the next day a new engineer 
would play the same trick on the eager passengers. 

Having a small board, big enough for only two, 
I invited my sweet cousin to ride with me. "Will 
you upset me at the bottom?" she asked with a 
merry twinkle of her eye. "Not for the world," 
I responded. "Then I'll trust you," she said. 
All ready, with my precious freight in front of me 
and securely held to guard against accident, down 
the hill we went and swept away out on the level 
below. "That's nice, I'll try it again," said the 
little girl with a winning smile. So we had a 
second merry ride, and I felt happier than at a 
picnic, when hark! from the grove came the dis- 
mal sound of "Books!" 

Among the sweet pictures of the past which 
memory holds are the bright moonlight nights, 
when, taking my younger brothers and sisters out 
on the hill back of our home we coasted until the 
summons came for us to leave our sport. With 
flushed cheeks and tired limbs we gathered around 
the cheerful fire, prayers were said, little feet were 
warmed, and all were tucked in our beds to rest 
and dream of pleasant things. How often since 
then, as the burden and cares of life pressed 



WINTER SPORTS l6l 

heavily upon us, have we wished to be back in the 
dear home nest and again to be tucked in the little 
trundle-bed by hands of love I 

In a few days the ponds and river were frozen 
over so that morning and evening lessons could be 
taken in the art of skating. In that day skates 
were a luxury in which the country boy rarely in- 
dulged. The first lesson in the art was to learn to 
stand on them. The second, to pick one's self 
up gracefully when the steel runners would fly 
from under one. The third lesson was to move 
forward, as the tendency often was to go back- 
ward. The fourth lesson, to stop and keep erect 
when at full speed, as the stopping often meant a 
general collapse. Having mastered the above les- 
sons, and being puffed up with pride, I wished to 
show my skill to an admiring crowd of juveniles of 
both sexes. I intended to jump over a small stick 
imbedded in the ice when going at high speed. 
"Look out! I'm coming!" I cried, and jumped. 
For a moment I was in a confused state of mind 
and body, then saw new stars near the zenith, fol- 
lowed by an aching sensation in the vicinity of my 
brain. Soon I realized that I was lying sprawl- 
ing on the ice, hatless and almost headless. Rally- 
ing from the wreck I decided there was no place 
like "Home, sweet home." 



1 62 MEMORY DAYS 

The Ice that winter was fourteen Inches thick, 
loaded wagons crossing on It at the ferry. The 
young ladles, having witnessed some of the un- 
graceful postures we beginners assumed, decided 
not to venture on an uncertainty. One sad day, 
two little damsels growing bold and braver, by 
slow degrees, came out on the Ice. As the ice got 
smoother their little feet threatened to slip, and 
Cousin Will took each by the hand and restored 
confidence. One feature of thick Ice Is that It 
sinks In the center of the stream, and cracks In 
straight lines with the noise of a gun. These 
sounds run rapidly, and when passing near one 
Ignorant of the cause they are alarming to a high 
degree. Just as Cousin Will took the visitors by 
the hand there came a tremendous cracking seam 
right toward them, and under their feet! "Oh, 
oh!" they screamed, and tried to run, and In the 
excitement slipped up and pulled Cousin Will 
down also, all In a shapeless mass, struggling for 
dear life. 

Mr. Paine cried out, "No danger!" The only 
reply was, "Oh dear, the Ice Is sinking! We'll be 
drowned! Save us, save us!" Quiet being re- 
stored to the Ice, their nerves also got more quiet, 
and regaining their feet they quickly sought the 
shore and vowed to have no more to do with such 
a treacherous thing as ice. 



CHAPTER XX 

'possum hunting 

"'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, 
And robes the mountains in its azure hue." 

— Campbell. 

In the fall of 1856, in the absence of my father, 
I was Installed as guardian of the home. One 
dark night, as the clock struck twelve, my mother 
tipped Into our room and whispered, "Something 
is after the chickens. Go out and see." Armed 
with the gun and my father's sword — a Revolu- 
tionary relic — my brother and I boldly marched 
out to repel the midnight Invasion of our domain. 
Pictures of rogues and wild-cats flashed through 
our minds, and "death to the foe!" was to be our 
battle cry. Sure enough, the domestic feathered 
tribe were cackling and screeching, the old rooster 
sounding forth the very notes of despair! We 
reconnoltered at a safe distance, closing in grad- 
ually on the enemy, but we had taken the military 
precaution to leave the gate open for retreat. 

Suddenly, just behind us, there was a scrambling 
at the fence and a crash Into the weeds on our side. 
Before valor could say, "Charge!" instinct whis- 



164 MEMORY DAYS 

pered, "Save yourselves," and at once the sword 
of the brave and the historic gun were in full re- 
treat through the open gate, and our forces rallied 
on the back porch. Then came our big dog Nep 
trotting after us. He came over the fence to our 
aid and we had run from our best friend. With 
Nep as our body-guard we went forth again. The 
door was intact, yet bedlam reigned inside the 
chicken house. Bringing a lantern and flashing 
the light into a corner, I saw the cunning foe as 
the keen eyes of a 'possum twinkled down upon me 
from the wall plate. The midnight robber was 
then captured and caged for exhibition on the fol- 
lowing day. 

A 'possum hunt was arranged for the next night. 
Scott, the boss at the quarry, was to be captain, and 
Uncle Reuben, with his dog Tip, was to lead the 
van. Uncle Reuben was a faithful old slave of 
my cousin's, and a regular '"possum scenter." 
Now for the boy a 'possum hunt was ideal sport. 
The time, the darkness, the stillness of the night, 
the deep woods — all added a weirdness that he en- 
joyed. Supplied with an axe, matches, and fat 
pine for torches, up the mountain branch we went. 
"Be quiet till Tip trees," was Uncle Reuben's 
order. Soon Tip's bark told of game, and a line 
of battle was formed around the tree. "Strike a 



'possum hunting 165 

light !" shouted Scott, whose dignity as captain had 
been quite overshadowed by Uncle Reuben. Out 
flashed the torch, and It revealed a picturesque 
scene. Upon a stunted gum, and hugging the end 
of a limb, was the marsupial quadruped. A blow 
from the axe that made the old tree quiver never 
moved him. He scorned the barking of Tip and 
the shouts of the besiegers. 

"Lem me clime up dar and shook him off," said 
barefooted George, whose skin In the torch light 
gleamed blacker than the night. 

''Go up," said the Captain, and up George 
shinned, and shook the limb. But the 'possum 
stuck closer than ever. George was crawling out 
nearer the prey, when crash ! and down came limb, 
'possum and nigger, all In a heap. In the excite- 
ment the light went out and Tip caught George's 
heel Instead of the 'possum. Yelling, he kicked 
the dog off and cried, "Kotch him! Kotch him!" 
Scott, somehow, got hold of the animal by the hind 
leg, but It made an impress of Its teeth upon the 
leg of the daring Captain, who immediately let go. 
After Scott's experience the others were more cau- 
tious in handling the 'possum. 

"Here he goes up de tree!" shouted Uncle 
Reuben. He caught the game by the tail, and 
swinging his head against the tree a truce was de- 



1 66 MEMORY DAYS 

clared, and he was thrown into the bag, the first 
fruits of the hunt. 

After a short breathing spell, Uncle Reuben 
said, getting up, *'Grass don't grow under de feet 
of 'possum hunters. Les's go to Simmon Holler." 
Thither we go. Tip scents for the game in ad- 
vance. We follow, now butting against a tree, 
now pulling through a knot of bushes and feeling 
In the dark for the hat knocked off, not knowing 
but that we might gather up the coils of a snake. 

Jumping over a log Tip sniffs the air and gives 
a significant bark. "What you got dar now?" asks 
his master. "Light, boys." Uncle Reuben gets a 
stick and says, "Some varmint is in here. I'll 
twist him out and you boys be sure to kotch him 
when he runs. Here It is, somethin' soft. Look 
out, he's comin' !" Then from those depths 
there comes to our nasal organs most unmistakable 
proof of the sort of game it Is. 

"Whew, whew !" cries Uncle Reuben. "De 
Lawd hab mussy! Skunk, skunk! Run, boys; 
run!" We run — run at the risk of cracked heads 
and torn garments, until Uncle Reuben calls from 
behind. "Hold on dar, de Debil ain't gwine ter 
git you !" 

A council of war Is held, and as the unaromatic 
odor comes floating to us on the midnight breeze it 



167 

IS voted to retire to the more fragrant air of our 
homes. 

The opossum is noted for his cunning in seeming 
to be dead and seizing an opportunity to escape. 
The one we brought home that night was turned 
over to the cook to prepare for dinner. The next 
day he still seemed insensible, but not stiff, and was 
dipped in hot water and most of his hair was 
scraped off. Being plunged into water still hotter, 
he suddenly came to life and, almost hairless, 
scampered around the room among the frightened 
negroes, several of whom were in the kitchen 
They rushed out into the yard crying, "De Debil 
in dat ar possum. He's wusser dan a ha'nt!" 
"Umph! save me from gwine back in dar!" 

But, when dinner came, seated around their 
favorite dish of '"possum and taters," these 
negroes forgot their scare and did justice to the 
meal. 



CHAPTER XXI 

THE NEW TEACHER 

"The clouds may drop down titles and estates; 
Wealth may seek us, but wisdom must be sought; 
Sought before all, but (how unlike all else 
We seek on earth!) 'tis never sought in vain." 

— Young. 

The snows of another winter had fallen gently 
upon the little grave under the moaning pine, em- 
blematic of the purity of the little life so early 
closed. A new teacher had been installed in the 
Crystal Spring Seminary, and he wielded the 
birchen sceptre with a firm hand, so that law and 
order still reigned. Passing over this year we 
come to a turning point in the history of our school. 
Many of the older boys had joined the great army 
of workers, and their places had been filled by new 
boys, most of whom belonged to the bare-footed 
brigade. Some of the larger girls had entered the 
school of housekeeping, and doubtless were now 
turning the spinning-wheel. Some of them, on the 
threshold of young womanhood, whose budding 
charms were attractive to the young men, were 
deemed, by prudent mamas, ready for select female 
schools. Much to my sorrow. Cousin Jennie's 



THE NEW TEACHER 1 69 

name was on the list. Farewell to the pleasant 
walks to and from school, farewell to the sweet 
smiles that had brightened the old school-room 
and made the long days seem short! Under an 
inspiration of the poetic muse, and after a great 
waste of pencil and paper, copying and revising, I 
pronounced the following verse very good : 

The day will be so very long, 
When I no longer see thee near; 

Sad will be my evening song, 
When thou art far away, my dear! 

I wanted my sweet cousin to see this, but my 
heart failed me when, several times, I vowed I'd 
show it to her. Somehow I was getting a little 
shy when she was near me, and I thought the word 
"dear" a little too pointed. But I just couldn't 
leave it out and make the thing rhyme, and I 
thought the time had not quite come for such 
"burning words." In solemn home council it was 
decided to send Jennie to a select school for girls 
at the home of our pastor, some five miles away, 
but all the joy did not leave my heart, for I could 
still see her on the Sabbath days, at old Falling 
Spring Church. 

But then, generally distance lent enchantment, 
for the parson guarded, with tender care, his bevy 
of fair young women, and discouraged any atten- 



170 MEMORY DAYS 

tions from former young gentleman friends. Ah, 
well do I remember those bright Sunday mornings, 
how soon I'd get up, anxious to be early at the 
shrine ; the waiting and watching at the gate, and 
how my heart went pIt-a-pat as the looked-for- 
carrlages with their treasures drove up guarded by 
the reverend gentleman himself on his steed ! But 
I felt paid for my labors by a nod and a smile as 
the girls, looking like visions of the morning, 
swept In through the gate around which many an 
admiring swain was doing faithful picket duty. 
There was no danger of such devoted sentinels 
ever sleeping on post. 

Crystal Spring Seminary had now reached the 
point where a college-bred teacher was needed. 
Some of us were ready for Latin, Greek, algebra 
and geometry, hitherto unknown visitors within 
the walls of our school. These names had a high- 
sounding ring about them, and it was with a lofty 
air of importance that I reeled off this list of new 
studies to a plain old farmer. With a touch of 
Irony in his tone he replied, "Can you spell? Do 
you know English grammar well?'' I almost felt 
insulted. 

After some skirmishing in the field of inquiry, 
Mr. Wm. F. Paine, a graduate of Princeton Col- 
lege, was chosen to fill the chair. His father was 



THE NEW TEACHER 1 7 1 

a veritable son of "Green Erin," having crossed 
the Atlantic, in his earlier days, in search of the 
''home of the free." When Mr. Paine came. Dr. 
Watson, our family physician, as master of cere- 
monies, pointed out the landscape, and introduced 
him into the homes in his field of labor. We gave 
him a grand reception in our home, all, from the 
oldest to the youngest, giving him glances of wel- 
come. As he talked of Princeton, of Washington 
City, of the Capitol, and the President, with whom 
he had shaken hands, our wonder and admiration 
rose to a high point, and Uncle Frank said Mr. 
Paine had seen the world and could teach us things 
outside of books. Before school commenced he 
had won my set of boys, for though his head was 
full of Greek, Latin and geometry, he'd talk to us 
about our every-day matters, go fishing and swim- 
ming with us, and tell us funny anecdotes that 
made us shake with laughter. I remember this 
one: 

"A country preacher, in the fall of the year, gOr 
ing to preach a funeral, called at the home of a 
good sister who had just made some nice sausage. 
She filled the pockets of his overcoat with the 
savory meat. For some reason the burial was to 
be before the sermon. During the services at the 
grave some hungry dogs scented the parson's 



172 MEMORY DAYS 

highly seasoned treasures, and, as they nosed too 
close for safety, only by a vigorous use of his heels 
did he ward them off. Afterward in the pulpit, 
as the church was cold, the pastor still wore his 
great-coat. At the close of the sermon, a dignified 
old deacon, wishing to whisper something in the 
preacher's ear, tipped softly up the pulpit steps, 
which were somewhat in the rear, and gave the 
coat tail, just by the sausage-laden pocket, a smart 
jerk. Not turning his head, the excited parson 
kicked with a zeal both spiritual and physical in 
the direction of his assailant. The deacon, struck 
amidships, lost his equilibrium, tumbled headlong 
down the steps, and, as he was gathering up the 
bruised mass and getting fresh wind, the preacher, 
in his defense, said, 'Brethren and sisters, please 
pardon me. The truth is, I have sausage here in 
my pockets, and ever since IVe been on the 
grounds this hungry dog has been trying to steal 
them." 

Proud of the dawn of a new era upon our Semi- 
nary, I told Uncle Humphrey that I was going to 
study Latin and algebra. "My laws, child," said 
he, "how smart you is gettin'. Did yer pa ever 
do that?" "No, when he was a boy colleges hadn't 
started yet," I replied. "Well, well, Lating and 



THE NEW TEACHER 1 73 

algibber, If you takes In all dat, your little head 
will just hiistF^ 

I had great respect for the old man, and his 
good opinion weighed much In my young mind. 
He was a deacon In the Baptist colored church at 
the Natural Bridge, and "Brudder Humphrey" 
was an oracle of both wordly and spiritual wisdom 
In the eyes of the faithful. I had as much confi- 
dence In his being ''good'* as In one of our own 
church elders, and I often slipped around to his 
cabin window and heard him pray at night. He 
always asked God to bless "Marse Preston," 
"Miss Hannah," and "de chillun." We children 
were made to treat these old negroes with great 
respect, and when convicted of giving "sass" to 
one of them we were sure of punishment. 

One evening, about sundown, as I was returning 
from the Valley, In the grove just above Cousin 
William's, I met Cousin Jennie and Mr. Paine, 
strolling along and chatting at a fast rate. I 
thought she was smiling on him more sweetly than 
was necessary, and the green-eyed monster whis- 
pered uncomfortable things in my ear. I looked 
wistfully back, as the small boy looks over the 
high palings Into the orchard where the red 
peaches are hanging. I knew then that I liked 
Jennie very much, or I would not have felt so 
worried. "But, pshaw I she's too young for Mr. 



174 MEMORY DAYS 

Paine," I thought, "and I'll just bet he's got a 
great big sweetheart down yonder. I don't think 
she'd like that big mustache of his, and I know 
there would be no fun kissing himF' Thus I con- 
soled my troubled spirit as I wended my way home- 
ward. 

I enjoyed a sharp remark of a young fellow at 
church the following Sunday. Mr. Paine met a 
young lady as she rode up, assisted her to alight, 
hitched her horse, and was escorting her down to 
the church door. As they passed into the yard, the 
girl bestowing a bewitching smile upon her new 
acquaintance, said young Socrates, "Miss Fanny 
has a Paine in her head this morning, and it will 
soon go to her heart." Of course the audience 
laughed, and an old bachelor remarked, "That 
kind of a pain is hard to get rid of." 

Perhaps our reader would like to peep into our 
school-room after a few months of work under our 
new teacher. The morning session has opened and 
the machinery, well oiled, is running smoothly. A 
glance over the benches shows that the personnel 
of the school has largely changed in the last few 
sessions. There are fewer girls and more boys. 
The first lesson of the morning is from the Shorter 
Catechism. This was a special request of some of 
the old Scotch-Irish Presbyterian fathers and 



THE NEW TEACHER 1 75 

mothers who wanted their young hopefuls trained 
up in the doctrines of the law. Then comes a 
Latin class and the verb A mo Is conjugated. We 
have learned that around "Amo te" there Is a ten- 
derness that Is suggestive of practical use only on 
special occasions. There Is not the buzz In the 
room that was In the elder day, yet a certain free- 
dom Is allowed. Hanging up on the wall, In gilt 
letters, Is the only written rule, "Do WHAT IS 
RIGHT." Dr. Birch Is not standing In the corner 
waiting to prescribe, as of yore, but he Is near by, 
In his office. The school Is better classified, and, 
although the discipline Is not so rigid as In other 
years, still there Is a smoothness In the order of 
things that gives a pleasant air to the room. 

The dally session Is shorter, yet we make better 
progress In our studies. A class In algebra goes to 
the black-board and astonishes the visitor by the 
ready manner In which "x + y" Is handled. Stress 
Is still laid on spelling, and parsing In English 
grammar Is considered an accomplishment. Alto- 
gether, our visitor Is pleased with the pictures of 
order, of study, and of thoroughness seen, ex- 
presses great satisfaction, and leaves with the kind 
Invitation, "Call again." 

We were taught singing, and many a little voice 
there got Its first training, that afterward swelled 



176 MEMORY DAYS 

out In some church choir. When divided Into four 
sections, we sang by parts the exciting words, 

"Scotland's burning, Scotland's burning, 
Look out! look out! 

Fire! Fire! Fire! 
Cast on water, cast on water!" 

and the walls fairly rang with the music. 

I remember my zeal in Latin. In the long sum- 
mer evenings I would often stop under an apple 
tree and read Fables for an hour. I am sorry such 
a spirit did not longer remain with me. 

In the absence of Cousin Jennie I turned my 
attention to gathering sweets from other flowers. 
Not that I was false or forgetful, but my gallantry 
naturally turned to some fair object whose smiles 
made sunshine along my path, and little courtesies 
on my part made life sweeter, and added a refining 
Influence. Belle W., a bright little girl, was the 
recipient of many gifts of my partiality. 

One day Cousin Will saw me slip into her hand 
a pencil I had begged from him. "Alex," said 
he, "you're in love with a little gal no bigger than 
my fist." "She'll grow some more," I replied. 

Then there was the old grape-vine swing by the 
creek, not a thing of beauty, but a joy forever. It 
didn't matter what I was doing at recess. If Belle 



THE NEW TEACHER 1 77 

called me to come and swing her, I obeyed, and 
her merry laugh and ''thank you" paid me well. 

At the noon recess trout-fishing in the deep hole 
was a fascinating pastime. A "dull" made of 
white horsehair, fashioned after the manner of a 
noose and attached to the end of a light-colored 
rod, was the implement of warfare. The wily fish, 
darting to and fro, was finally brought to bay on 
the deeper side of the hole. Then slowly and cau- 
tiously the "dull" was moved toward the fish, 
nearer, nearer. Now 'tis over his head — "swish!" 
and out he comes dangling in the air. There was 
the "Big Hole" for swimming, diving, ducking 
and turning summerset from a spring-board. Oh, 
those blessed days ! Their memory steals over me 
softly and sweetly, a beautiful vision that fills my 
soul with a quiet joy. 

My mind still dwells on the tender things of 
those days. Mr. Paine didn't mind our having 
little sweethearts, as he said it made us nicer to the 
girls and there was no danger of our eloping with 
any of them. 

In those days, as now, funny things happened in 
the recitations. Once a big mountain boy was 
listening to the algebra class recite. After hearing 
a boy explain a problem, beginning, "Let x equal 

12 



178 MEMORY DAYS 

the horse," he whispered to me, "To save my neck, 
I can't see how x can stand for a horse!" Sell 
B. was a lazy fellow in school, and, in Latin 
would guess at words from their resemblance in 
sound to English words. He translated, "Socrates 
fidibus doctus est," Socrates played on the fiddle! 
The teacher said it was enough to make the old 
philosopher turn over in his grave, to be styled a 
fiddler. Again, in Virgil, reading of the night 
Troy fell, when Aeneas, taking his father on his 
shoulders, and his little boy by the hand, was 
escaping from the burning cit}^ whilst his wife, as 
the text, "Pone subit conjux," implies, followed close 
behind, Sell rolled out, "His w^fe rode out on the 
pony." Said Mr. Paine, "Creusa surely needed a 
pony that night." One more shot of SelFs and the 
curtain will fall. In the same author are found 
the words "Dido et dux." Sell, after measuring 
the words with his eye, thus audibly soliloquized, 
"Dido m.ust have been a greedy woman to eat 
more than one duck." 



CHAPTER XXII 



MARRIAGE BELLS 



"There swims no goose so gray but, soon or late, 
She finds some honest gander for a mate." 

—Pope. 

I am going to write about some friends who in 
my childhood and boyhood cared for me, and were 
my companions. I mean the faithful old servants. 
Whenever I think or speak of them, a chord in my 
heart is struck that vibrates in love and grateful 
remembrance. Our cook, Aunt Eliza, was a bright 
mulatto, a great talker and noted singer. Coming 
up the hill from the spring with a bucket of water 
on her head and one in each hand, she would sing 
in a voice that could be heard afar off. Her 
songs were always of the spiritual sort and she 
seemed gifted in taking a tune and improvising 
words to fit it. A favorite refrain was, 

"In Canaan's land so bright and fair, 
Oh I'll be so happy there." 

For the simple reason that Bill Brown, her first 
partner, smiled too often on an ebony maiden in 
his neighborhood their ways parted, and she was 
what the heartless world calls a "grass widow." 



l8o ' MEMORY DAYS 

In course of time one Wince Coleman laid siege 
to her heart, and his pockets often were heavy 
with sticks of red candy, a share of which we 
children always got. Wince was a general me- 
chanic and the blacksmith at the quarry. He won 
my mother's kind regard by doing for her certain 
little jobs which required skill, so a cup of good 
coffee and a full plate often made his eyes dance. 
How and where he "popped the question" is a 
mystery, but the time came when two hearts beat 
as one. 

Asking for the bride was an ordeal for Wince, 
an ordeal almost equal to that of his young master 
on a similar occasion. Following my father down 
into the garden among the grape vines, he blurted 
out, "Marse Preston, I wants you to give me Liza. 
We's a lubbin' one another. I'll try to be good to 
her." This was the essence in a nutshell. "Yes, 
you can have her," father replied; "but don't 
forget your promise." Again bowing low and 
scraping one foot on the ground. Wince said, 
"Tank you, sir, Marse Preston. I does 'preciate 
de blessin'." 

Well, the day was set and the verbal invitations 
given to Aunt Eliza's wedding. A white bridal 
dress was made, and red ribbon for her hair, new 
shoes, and white gloves were bought by my mother. 



MARRIAGE BELLS l8l 

The heart of the bride-elect was lighter and her 
song louder. Then came the baking of pies and 
cakes, as mother said, equal to her own wedding 
feast. 

The hour came for the marriage bells to ring. 
My Cousin Will, Jennie, and some other young 
friends were there. Uncle Aleck, Cousin Wil- 
liam's head man, was to perform the ceremony. 
The parlor was thrown open and the guests, white 
and black, crowded in. The bride, leaning on the 
groom's arm, and carrying a big bouquet of roses, 
entered, and they stood before the colored divine. 

"You, Liza Brown and Wince Coleman, have 
come to be j'ined in holy matrimony. Any inter- 
jections, let be said now. Does ye lub one 
another?" Aunt Eliza lisped out, *'Yes, sir," and 
Wince in a high key, sang out, "Sure 'nough I 
does." At this one of my cousins laughed out, and 
there was danger of a general volcanic outburst, 
but mother cleared her throat in time, a signal for 
order and quiet. The parson proceeded, "Now, 
jine right hands. Wince, does you take Liza for 
your lawful and wedded wife?" "You bet I 
does." "Liza, does you take Wince to be your 
lawful and wedded husband?" She nodded as- 
sent. "Den de blessin' of de Lord be on you both, 
and be good chillun. I announce you man and 



1 82 MEMORY DAYS 

wife, and let nothing eber dismember de legality 
ob dis matrimonial union. Amen." 

Then followed a hand-shaking, and Uncle 
Reuben sang out, "Let's kiss de bride." "Wince 
may kiss me, but you niggers won't," said the 
bride, and thereupon Wince kissed her. Then the 
negroes retired to Aunt Eliza's house, where. In a 
large room, a royal supper was spread. What a 
happy time ! One road to a darky's heart Is 
through his throat, and when armed with knife 
and fork behind a cooked turkey he Is In the 
border-land of paradise. There was abundance 
that time, and all ate to the full. 

After supper Jack cut the "pIgeon-wIng" to the 
music of the banjo. There was no waltzing, as the 
colored maids were too modest to be hugged In 
public. Uncle Aleck told some big yarns and led 
off In the "Haws-haws" that followed. Sam sang 
some negro melodies to the banjo, and all went 
merry-hearted creatures, with the kindliest feelings 
merry hearted creatures, with the kindliest feelings 
toward the "white folks," left for their homes. 

Uncle Ike was the wag on our farm, and could 
mimic the voice and manner of any negro. In 
the negro life In our valley there was no care nor 
thought for the morrow. Well fed, well clothed, 
and well housed, not overworked, and mostly with 



MARRIAGE BELLS 1 83 

kind and indulgent masters, they seemed the hap- 
piest beings on earth. Their pride in the master's 
family was remarkable and they had perfect con- 
tempt for "po' white trash," the poorer whites 
who, in many ways, put themselves on an equality 
with the negroes. Old man B. was the hardest 
man on his people in our neighborhood. He 
made them dance up tO' the music of work and 
obedience. Yet, on one Christmas, he would take 
the men to a store and give them a fairly nice suit, 
and a pair of boots; and, on the next Christmas 
the women went and got a nice dress and shoes 
apiece. And these servants were loyal to their 
master's house, and would resent any reflection 
upon it. 

A negro could often express a general truth in 
a quaint but pointed way. Once two of them were 
removing an old tree from a yard. The church- 
man was pulling it with a rope in a certain direc- 
tion and the sinner was digging away at the root. 
As the tree began to shake the one holding the 
rope would jump back and forth, watching the 
threatened danger. "Ha!" said the sinner, 
"church-man skeer bad as any other man !" The 
other replied, "Church-man want to stay here long 
as any other man, too." 



CHAPTER XXIII 

BARRING THE TEACHER IN 

"Opposed to her, on t'other side advance 
The costly feast, the carol and the dance. 
Minstrel and music, poetry and play. 
And balls by night, and tournaments by day." 

— Dry den. 

The mellow autumn days with their golden sun- 
sets had passed. The trees, so lately clothed in 
their gorgeous robes, were beginning to look bare 
and cold. The time for the gathering of the later 
fruits and crops had come, and all was bustle and 
stir on the farm. The grand old orchards were 
bending under their loads of fruit, and the time for 
apple-picking, cider making, and apple-butter boil- 
ings were equal to a picnic for the boy. Especially 
did he enjoy life in the vicinity of the cider-press, 
and as the rich juice trickled down into the trough 
he sampled it times without number, as his capacity 
for storage seemed to have an elasticity that knew 
no bounds. 

Then came the heaping loads of corn, which 
were thrown in a long pile by the cribs, and next 
the fun of the husking. I well remember the 
frolic that particular fall. For two or three days 



BARRING THE TEACHER IN 1 85 

previous there was unusual activity In the culinary 
departments, extra cooks, extra baking, pigs 
roasted, chickens boiled, loaves of bread and pump- 
kin pies piled almost as high as a boy's head. A 
barrel of cider, getting a little spice to its flavor, 
was rolled Into the yard and tapped. The day 
came,— a day, of course, in the week of moonlight 
nights, — and invitations were sent to the neighbor- 
ing farms and to the furnace hands in the Valley. 
At least one hundred came, and the work began. 
The pile was divided and two leaders selected, and 
the leaders walking up and down their heaps led 
the singing in Improvised lines to a monotonous 
tune, and at the end of each line a chorus by the 
buskers, thus: 

1st Captain, "Ole 'possum up de simmontree," 

Chorus by all — "Shuck away, shuck away!" 

"Cut him down and eat him up." 
Chorus — "Shuck away, shuck away!" 
2nd Captain, "I fell in lub wid a yaller gal," 
Chorus — "Oh, yes, oh, yes!" 

"Her eyes did shine like stars at night." 
Chorus — "Oh, yes, oh, yes!" 

The chorus leaders now and then changed the 
words. Buckets of cider were handed around, 
and then the chorus was, 

"Drink away, drink away!" 



1 86 MEMORY DAYS 

By eleven o'clock came the scramble at the divid- 
ing line for the last ears, and the winning side tried 
their lungs. 

Next was the feast on the long tables in the 
yard. The negroes surely did enjoy this change 
of work. After the supper my father was sitting 
in the house, when four stalwart negroes came in, 
caught him up in his chair, and placed it on a box 
in the middle of the yard. Thus seated on an 
improvised throne he was saluted as king. As 
before a Dahomey prince, they bowed the knee; 
to the music of the banjo and bones, danced fantas- 
tic figures, and marching around him in a large 
circle they sang the old-time melodies. In the pale 
moonlight the scene was weird enough, and doubt- 
less was a faint reflection handed down through 
their generations of kingly homage away back 
yonder in dark Africa. 

When the court reception was over my father 
arose from his throne, thanked his dusky subjects 
for the honor conferred upon him in being selected 
for their king, when he had no royal blood in his 
veins. He thanked all who sang around the corn 
pile for their kindly work, and told them if any 
one of them, in going by, ever felt hungry to come 
in and get a "square meal." 

Then there was a chorus of, " 'Rah for Marse' 



BARRING THE TEACHER IN 1 87 

Preston!" and with, ''Good night, Boss," "Good 
night, Marse Preston," "Good night, Miss Han- 
nah," "Good supper!" "Neber eat such pies!" 
"Good white folks," etc., those happy, faithful 
slaves departed to their homes, with no care and 
no thought for the morrow. 

The frosty winds of December were again fan- 
ning our cheeks as morning after morning we were 
on the road to Crystal Spring Seminary. The 
period of the year was nearing to which both the 
small boy and his older brother looked with much 
interest, the time for the ringing of the Christmas 
bells. In the fertile brain of some boy the idea 
originated of barring Mr. Paine out, "just for the 
fun of the thing." We had no doubt of his giving 
us holiday, but still it seemed amusing thus to 
break into the monotony of school life. The plot 
was laid, the day set, and early one cold morning 
the clans gathered and the work of barring out 
began. The vote on the question had not been 
unanimous, and some spurned the idea. Some of 
the girls were indignant, and threatened to stay 
outside. But the keen morning air suggested the 
inside. Mr. Paine was popular, and the remarks 
made in connection with him were all pleasant and 
respectful. The fortress was secure and anxious 
hearts awaited the crisis. The hour for the open- 



1 88 MEMORY DAYS 

ing of school came, passed, and no teacher ! Was 
he sick? Had anything happened to him? One 
of the boys reported him "ahve and well" at 
breakfast that morning, for he ate six big buck- 
wheat cakes ! Several false alarms were sounded, 
but were only passers-by. 

"Boys," said Wm. A., "won't this shock 
Mr. Paine's nerves!" "I wonder If he didn't 
dream about it last night?" said John Tolley. 
"No," remarked Joe P., "he'd been here soon 
this morning, and upset all our plans." "You big, 
ugly boys ought to be ashamed of yourselves!" 
said Mary Peck, a pretty girl. "You young sin- 
ners will repent of treating Mr. Paine this way!" 
piped in a big boy who said it was wrong, and 
similar remarks were made, until our patience 
being sorely taxed, John Watson jumped on the 
writing-bench, and pushing aside a loose plank of 
the loft, said in a careless way, " 'Spose he's up 
here." Thrusting his head into the opening and 
peering into the gloom, he cried out In an excited 
tone, "La ! I'll declare, if he Isn't here !" "Yez a 
foolln'," said John Sullivan, the Irish boy. "Look 
yourself, then," replied John. Up went Sullivan's 
head into the hole. "Saint Patrick's day in the 
mornin', an shure he's right here!" A hush of 
awful solemnity rested upon the school, a dead 



BARRING THE TEACHER IN 1 89 

silence, broken, In a few seconds, by sounds of ani- 
mation from the loft. Seeing Is believing, and all 
doubts were removed when Mr. Paine descended 
from the upper regions. 

Laughing heartily he said, "You seem anxious 
to keep me inside. I'll not run away.'' The girls 
tittered and the boys grinned, but the expression 
was not one of joy. Said Mr. Painc, "A little 
bird flew by my window and sang, 'Look out for 
Tuesday morning!' I took the warning and 
thought I'd play a joke on you." A buzz swept 
over the girls, and some of them clapped their 
hands, saying, "I'm so glad!" 

"I'm going to give a week's holiday, and treat 
you too, for the nice things you said about me just 
now," continued Mr. Paine. "Open the doors and 
get to your lessons." 

Of course everybody laughed at us afterward, 
but we grinned and endured, for the candy was 
sweet and the apples juicy that we got on that 
Christmas eve. 

"Down from the misty past came the expression 
"School butter." We heard of it from our 
fathers, and looked upon It as the greatest insult 
when cried out to a lot of school boys. The 
offender had to be caught, at any risk, and naught 
but a ducking could atone for the wrong. 



190 MEMORY DAYS 

There was not a poor child In the neighborhood 
that did not come to our school. There was a 
county commissioner who had charge of a fund 
raised by taxation to pay the tuition of Indigent 
children. The teachers kept a record of their 
time, and at the close of a session the accounts, 
vouched for on oath, were paid. So in that day 
education, In the Valley, was as general as now. 



CHAPTER XXIV 

THE NATURAL BRIDGE 

"Some objects please our eyes 
Which out of nature's common order rise, 
The shapeless rock or hanging precipice." 

—Pope. 

A few miles above Balcony Falls, Cedar Creek 
comes rushing down from the hills into James 
River. Across this creek, and spanning a deep 
ravine, about a mile and a half from the river, 
Nature, in ages past, built a grand arch which we 
call the Natural Bridge. This ravine, whose 
western side is a perpendicular wall of rock, is Im- 
passable for a mile below, and two miles above 
the arch. One of our old preachers, on seeing this 
bridge, said, "If man had made this, he would 
charge toll for crossing. I think the Lord should 
have a gate here and the proceeds go to foreign 
missions." 

The width of the chasm here is about three 
hundred feet, both sides being rock walls. The 
height of the lower part of the arch from the creek 
below Is two hundred and twenty feet, and It Is 
forty feet thick. The cedar, arbor vitae, and 



192 MEMORY DAYS 

spruce pine grow in great profusion, and from a 
short distance the structure seems clad In a garb of 
living green. 

Strangers can be taken across, Ignorant of the 
fact that It Is a natural bridge, as the road bed lies 
between a natural wall of rock covered with ever- 
greens on the north, and a high, solid plank-fence 
on the south. We go to the brink and cautiously 
peer Into the depths below where the water Is 
winding and foaming among the rocks, a dizzy 
feeling comes over us, and we draw back from the 
awful chasm. 

Once a little fellow from Boston, who wished to 
look over, got on his hands and knees to Insure 
safety. Thus, bold beyond prudence, the shelving 
rock on the edge suddenly gave away and his de- 
parture for parts below was very unceremonious. 
A cold shudder passed over the spectators, and for 
a few seconds they held their breath. A feeble 
cry was heard. Held by the hands of others a 
visitor looked over, and there, caught In some 
cedars projecting from a crevice In the wall, some 
twenty feet down, was the poor fellow hanging 
over the yawning chasm. From the store, near 
by, a rope was quickly gotten, whilst words of 
cheer were shouted to him by those above. The 
rope was let down In noose form, which he adn 



THE NATURAL BRIDGE 1 93 

justed under his arms, and they drew him to the 
top. Fainting, he lay unconscious for several 
minutes. Reviving he asked, 'Where am I?" 
"At the Natural Bridge in Virginia," some one re- 
plied. Springing to his feet he said, "I'm going 
home," and left on the very next stage coach. 

On a crag projecting out over the depth below 
was a cedar stump with a level top about a foot in 
diameter. On this, it was said, a romantic maiden 
stood and read a love-letter. It made my head 
swim to look at it and think of the foolish feat. 
At one time, during my boyhood, a car let down 
by ropes and pulleys was worked for a while, and 
the less timid were lowered and elevated in this car. 
On one occasion, when the car was near the bottom, 
the man at the wheel lost his hold and down came 
the car with a bump that mixed up the passengers 
very much. They decided to walk back. 

Once a smart chap put on buckskin gloves to 
show the folks how to go down the rope. The 
crowd below were ready, and down he started, 
hand over hand at first. But soon fearing to trust 
to one grip he began tO' slide down, the rope run- 
ning through his hands. The gloves, from fric- 
tion, soon wore out, and when he reached the bot- 
tom the rope had nearly worn his hands to the 
bone. 
13 



194 MEMORY DAYS 

Standing by the creek below and looking up to 
the great arch overhead, one Is struck with awe 
and admiration at the Immense structure. On 
both sides are traces of names carved In the hard 
limestone, names seeking Immortality ! At the top 
of them all Is that of George Washington, now 
seen only with the aid of a glass. It Is said that 
he threw a silver dollar across the bridge as an 
exhibition of his muscle. If so, the Father of his 
country must have belonged to the free-silver 
party. 

On looking up directly under the arch there can 
be seen the Image of an eagle as If painted there. 
His head Is toward the north. Now, on looking 
more closely, the Impress of a lion's head can be 
clearly seen under the eagle's right wing, as If 
overshadowed by It. Thus nature, foreseeing that 
the British Hon would crouch beneath the Ameri- 
can eagle's wing, stamped the picture there that 
our fathers might see and take courage. 

The Natural Bridge Is an Ideal place for picnics, 
and during the v/armer months, from far and near, 
many parties come with heaping baskets of lunch 
to celebrate a gala day. There under the arch, 
seated on the clean, smooth stones by the purling 
water, they talk and jest, and then, spreading their 
lunch on rock tables, they eat and drink to each 



THE NATURAL BRIDGE 1 95 

Other's health. Afterward, in groups, mostly of 
two, they scatter around, and the day passes as a 
sweet dream. Many a romance, beginning there 
under the inspiration of Nature's sublime works, 
ends under the bridal arch. 

Going up the stream some three hundred yards 
and climbing up the east cliff by a winding path, 
some two hundred feet from the bed of the creek, 
there can be seen under a ledge of rock a current 
of water rushing madly on, in a line parallel with 
the creek. It is ice cold, deep and dark, and 
called the Hidden River. Whence came it and 
whither does it go? Nature alone can answer. 

In a snow storm, when the trees are drooping 
beneath their burdens, the dark green foliage in 
striking contrast with the snowy robes, the scene 
presents a picture as if from some enchanted land. 



CHAPTER XXV 



COUSIN JENNIE S PARTY 

"Pleasure that comes unlocked for is thrice welcome; 
And if it stir the heart, if aught be there 
That may hereafter in a thoughtful hour 
Wake but a sigh, 'tis treasured up among 
The things most precious; and the day it came 
Is noted as a white day in our lives." 

— Rogers. 

"Alex, you and Mr. Scott come up to-night. 
Jennie will be home, and bring some of her school- 
mates, and we have invited some other young folks. 
Come, for we'll have lots of fun." 

"Thank you," said I to Cousin Will. "I think 
we'll come." I hurried to find Scott, who was 
manager of the cement tunnel on our place, a pleas- 
ant, jolly fellow of some twenty-four years of age, 
who boarded at our home. He made a companion 
of me, and also took delight, sometimes, In teasing 
me. 

One summer I had cultivated a watermelon 
patch and sold the luscious fruit. On a hot eve- 
ning, in getting ready for market, I was going 
down the spring hill, carr}dng a large basket con- 
taining three melons, and Impatient at some delay. 
Meeting Scott, he placed his foot, a foot of unusual 



COUSIN JENNIE S PARTY 1 97 

size, just In front of mine. Of course I tripped, 
and down I fell, rolling in one direction and the 
fruit in another. As the author of my misfortune 
began to enjoy the performance, I made him think 
he was in a hail storm by raining rocks upon him. 
Taking refuge behind a tree he begged for a truce, 
and promised to pay the market price for Injured 
melons. Yet I was very fond of him. 

On telling Scott of the party he patted me on 
the shoulder and said, "Of course, my boy, we'll 
go, and have a frolicsome time." "Whew ! going 
to a regular party," said I. "Why, I never was 
at one. What do they do?" "They talk and 
laugh, eat apples, chestnuts, cakes and play 
games," he replied. "If we can just start a kissing 
game, look out for a feast!" 

En route to the party Scott offered me some ad- 
vice in conducting the social campaign. "Sit up 
to the girls and talk like a rattle-trap. The more 
foolishness you talk the louder they'll laugh. 
Girls don't fancy a slow, bashful chap." 

Well, in time came the ordeal of Introduction to 
four strange girls all seated In a row. I bowed 
four times in the right direction, but did not catch 
the individual names. It was my luck to get in 
a corner with Miss D., a tall, dignified-looking 
girl, apparently old enough to be my mother. I 



198 MEMORY DAYS 

touched on the weather, on gossip, on her school, 
but she only half smiled, and lisped out "yes" or 
"no," according to the tenor of my remarks. I 
grew discouraged, and felt that I was doomed to 
failure In this line of business. But on her remark- 
ing that she was a victim of the toothache, my 
heart went right out to her in sympathy, and I gave 
my experience in this affliction, told of the baby's 
cutting teeth, of all the remedies I ever heard for 
the same, and wound up by asking If she would let 
me pull It! Giving me a look that chilled my 
kindly feelings, she replied, "You are crazy, boy!" 
I wondered if she was not half right. I would 
have retreated, but was hemmed in, escape seeming 
impossible. Just then I noticed Cousin Jennie and 
Scott watching us, and evidently enjoying the situ- 
ation. I looked into the fire; my Ideas had all 
flown. I grew redder and hotter, the perspiration 
began to moisten my temples, and to add fuel to 
the flame I heard Scott say, "A dead calm on the 
sea!" In a fit of desperation I gasped out, "Let 
me bring you a drink of water. Maybe it will 
help that tooth." "No, thank you," said the 
afflicted one. "Then, I must get one. Excuse 
me," and squeezing through a narrow space I shot 
for the door. I felt like singing, "Joy to the 
world," as the night air cooled my heated brow. 



COUSIN JENNIE S PARTY I99 

Regaining my wonted temperature I again re- 
turned to the room, but tried the other side this 
time. My experience in the new quarter was more 
agreeable. A little black-eyed girl chatted so fast 
that I could hardly wedge in a remark, only show- 
ing my interest by nodding assent and laughing at 
her wit and spice. Scott had cornered a pretty girl 
with black curls, and was entertaining her to per- 
fection, judging from the way she was smiling. 

As I saw my uncle introduce John W., a bash- 
ful youth, to my afflicted friend, I wished to 
whisper in his ear to beware, for other ships had 
wrecked on that shore ! I could not help observ- 
ing the drift of things. They did not talk much, 
only looked unutterable things at each other. 

When the stock of ideas seemed to be getting 
low, plays were introduced. First was the game 
of "button." Around the ring went the leader 
with a button in hand, pretending to give it to each 
player, with the words, "Hold fast what I give 
you." Then each one guessed at the question, 
"Who has the button?" At the command, "Rise, 
buttoner," a pawn was collected from each one fail- 
ing to guess the right one. After a few rounds 
came the sale of the pawns, an exciting time. 
These consisting of pencil, knife, ring, or handker- 
chief, had to be redeemed by the owners acting the 



200 MEMORY DAYS 

penalty imposed by the judge. Held over the head 
of the judge, with the words "fine" or "superfine" 
prefixed, as it was the property of a boy or a girl, 
sentence was passed, and the owner called forth to 
redeem same. The judge was a young lady cousin, 
a bright, fun-loving girl. "Fine," said the leader 
at the sale of the first pawn. "What must the 
owner do?" "Whistle 'Old Dan Tucker,' " said 
the judge. Whereupon Cousin Will, after several 
attempts, got his mouth puckered up to the tuning 
point and gave us a verse of that inspiring tune. 
"Superfine" was called out for the next. The pen- 
alty was to stand up in the middle of the floor and 
recite a piece of poetry. My little black-eyed 
friend, equal to the occasion, jumped up and gave 
us a stanza of the song, "Young Rory O'Moore 
courted Kathleen Bawn." Thus the sale went on 
amid peals of laughter. I almost held my breath 
as my knife went up. Said the merciless judge, 
"Sing us a verse of a love song." I was so scared 
I didn't know a love song from a comic song, and, 
as my musical bump was not well developed, I 
begged to be excused. "No," said the judge, 
"you must try for your treasure." Clearing my 
throat two or three times the frog only seemed to 
get larger. Amid calls of "Sing," "Go on," I 
tremblingly took the floor and struck out on one of 



COUSIN Jennie's party 201 

my boyish favorites, "Miss Susianna," a negro 
melody. At the end of the first verse things were 
swimming so around me I decided to take my seat. 
Next Cousin Jennie's kerchief was held up and 
she was to select a gallant knight, take his arm, 
and promenade three times across the room. 
Bless her sweet soul! perhaps to pay me for my 
effort at vocal music, she chose me, and I forgot all 
my late agony in the bliss of having her arm in 
mine. We executed the movement as gracefully 
as the waxed floor permitted, for at one turn I 
came near ^^skeeting'' up, to the amusement of my 
partner. The last was old Scott's, and I was 
delighted when he was told to kneel at Miss D.'s 
feet, fold his hands and say, "Here I give myself 
to thee." Down he went on his knees, and when 
he got to, "Here I — ," the poor girl, fearing the 
thing might be half in earnest, I suppose, blushed 
crimson, and said, "I don't want you I" The room 
roared with laughter and Scott retreated, looking 
quite crest-fallen. 

The next game was proposed by Scott, who ex- 
plained that it was innocent, and the spice that 
seasoned it was a modest kiss; that over in east- 
ern Virginia they all played it and enjoyed it. 
Before they could rally from the announcement of 
the new feature of the play, Scott was getting all 



202 MEMORY DAYS 

things ready for the practical part. Couples were 
first chosen by lot, then a couple were chosen to 
take chairs in the center of the room, and around 
them the rest marched singing some verses, the 
chorus being, "Come my love, kiss me quick and 
let me go." At this point each couple in the ring 
changed partners with those in front, and those in 
the chair, if both were willing, in plain English, 
kissed each other. Then the front couple took 
the chairs and the play proceeded. By a streak of 
good luck in the changing of couples, I got with 
Cousin Jennie as our turn came to take the chairs. 
She whispered in my ear that she was not going to 
let me kiss her, but in her eye there was a look of 
"I dare you !" So, when the moment for action 
came, being too near the bee-hive to lose the honey 
I dared to try. Slightly hesitating, she yielded. 
I would not have exchanged that kiss for the presi- 
dency. Mr. Paine's partner was a girl who had 
been staying at my cousin's, rather plain looking, 
and as she was rather tender toward him, we 
watched the performance with much interest. His 
gallantry made him dance up to the music the 
accompaniment to which she played with a good 
grace. 

Scott, I think, plotted to get with Miss P., the 
owner of the curls. They were among the last in 



COUSIN JENNIE S PARTY 203 

the chairs, and he, in his ardent enthusiasm, gave 
her such a smack that it made Cousin Sarah, the 
mistress of ceremonies, fairly jump. Scott's 
smack "broke up the meeting," as my cousin sug- 
gested a rest from our labors ! 

Apples and chestnuts were then brought in and 
a new music filled the room. I did not offer to 
crack the nuts for Miss D., although I remembered 
the sore tooth. Naming the apple and counting 
the seeds furnished a source of interest. Mine 
had thirteen seeds. As the numbers in their mean- 
ing ran thus, "Eleven he courts, twelve he mar- 
ries," in my innocence I was asking for informa- 
tion as to thirteen. Scott, sitting by me, at this 
juncture leaned over and whispered, "Hush!" I 
hushed. 

Soon the old clock in the hall struck eleven, the 
good-nights were said, the gate closed on the de- 
parture of the last guest, and the "party" was a 
thing of the past. I had been introduced into a 
new sphere of life. My brain fairly whirled with 
the excitement of the evening, and it was long ere 
sleep came to my pillow. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

DECLAMATION EVENING 

"While words of learned length and thund'ring sound 
Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around; 
And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew 
That one small head should carry all he knew." 

— Goldsmith. 

The former Instructors at Crystal Spring had 
ignored the claims of Demosthenes and Cicero on 
the rising generation. But our new teacher, as 
soon as the ordinary machinery of the school was 
in running order, introduced this important feature 
of education in semi-monthly exercises. Visitors, 
he said, would not be invited until, by practice, 
some ease and grace had been acquired. This 
promise was somewhat quieting to our nerves. 

Friday morning dawned bright and beautiful, 
the day for our first attempts on the rostrum. In 
honor of the occasion shoes had an extra gloss, and 
Sunday neckties were in evidence. Mr. Paine ex- 
plained and illustrated the outlines of manner and 
gesture. As we listened our hearts beat faster than 
on the great day of Aunt Rachel's oratorical dis- 
play. The work on the raw material began. 
First came the juveniles, some of whom, like scared 



DECLAMATION EVENING 205 

rabbits, rattled off their pieces in double-quick 
time, on the principle that he who wins the race 
must run the fastest. Mr. Paine cautioned them 
and advised putting on the brakes, but the wheels 
only went the faster. One young hopeful stag- 
gers up to the rostrum, forgets the first line, and 
down he goes amid the titterings of the audience. 
Another starts out on too high a key, scares at his 
own voice, and rushes to his seat. 

On the suggestion of our teacher, that we try to 
make gestures, Dick Morris beat the air to a 
modest extent, but every stroke was out of time and 
out of tune. George Campbell, in a gesture about 
the stars, got both arms extended in a perpendicu- 
lar line toward the heavens, when lo! his memory 
failed and his hands were still among the stars! 
Bravely he stood at his post, feeling for the sen- 
tence that would lower his upper limbs, until amid 
the ''kee-hees" of the ruder ones, Mr. Paine told 
him to take his seat. He seemed greatly relieved 
to get back safe to terra firma. I tried to declaim 
the merits of the Father of our country, but both 
voice and knees were shaky, and, in an expressive 
gesture aimed at the locality of the heart, I struck 
a little below said organ, and the concussion, for 
an instant, slightly interfered with the correct 



206 MEMORY DAYS 

modulation of voice. But I soon rallied, and pro- 
ceeded with my lines. 

William Anderson did "Marco Bozzaris" in 
heroic style. In the gesture at the last "Strike!'' 
in his enthusiasm outreaching the narrow limits of 
the stage, his clenched hand just grazed the nose of 
an admiring listener. John Tolley marched up, 
faced the audience, and tried to launch out in "The. 
bark that held the prince went down," but the 
"goslings" made him squeak so as to- make the 
house roar. He sat down feeling much like a 
goose. 

Mr. Paine was lenient in his criticisms, and said 
there was hope of our success, and that practice, 
doubtless, would bring rich results. He spoke of 
the value of the exercise in making men of us. 
Said he, "The leading men of our country can 
speak, in the law, in the pulpit, in the Legislature, 
in Congress. Right here is the starting point, and 
I want you to make these walls ring, and then your 
voices may ring in other and grander walls." 
Those words sounded as an inspiration to some of 
us, and there stole into our hearts a desire to ex- 
cel — the first whisperings of ambition. 

The special exercises for the next week were tO' 
be compositions, handed in Tuesday morning, ex- 
amined, and handed back with criticisms on Friday 



DECLAMATION EVENING 207 

evening. This work, too, was new to us. Sub- 
jects were assigned to us in classes according to 
grade, and such scratching of heads and thinking 
to collect ideas on our subject, "Water !" Though 
a fluent topic, yet, when we tackled It, the springs 
seemed almost dry. The bundle of crude ideas — 
"the essay" — was criticised In a delicate way, and 
the better points complimented. Our school now 
was on the right plane of instruction, and a stimu- 
lus had been infused that gave to it a new life and 
a brighter hope. 

As the weeks rolled by, the exercises in elocution 
became more entertaining under patient drill and 
instruction in the art, and the feeling of hesitancy 
was giving way to that of confidence. By and by 
we aspired to a debating society, but our teacher 
did not think us quite ready In years or training for 
such an organization. But "genius In the bud" 
is hard to suppress, and at the noon recess, under 
the big trees on the hill, now and then, we would 
choose sides, and, in a crude way, try to debate 
some question. I'm thinking of the practical one 
we discussed: "Which exerts the greater influence 
over man, woman or money?" William Ander- 
son led off in a strain that fairly made the leaves of 
the trees seem to jingle like gold and silver coins. 
Sweeping everything before him, he came down 



208 MEMORY DAYS 

the ages with money as the signal light that ever 
beckoned man on to any deed, good or bad. He 
said the Rothschilds with their millions could buy 
kings and that one hundred dollars could bribe the 
average Congressman. Having swept over the 
field he took his seat amid the clapping of little 
hands. 

The writer was to champion the cause of woman. 
With some misgivings as to winning, he began with 
Eve, who tempted Adam and caused the fall of 
the race; referred to Delilah, to Jezebel, to 
Trojan Helen, and to Joan of Arc. Then, from 
his grandmother, who taught him the Catechism, 
from mothers and sisters In our homes, from the 
tens of thousands of sweet maidens whose images 
disturb the dreams of just so many devoted youths, 
from all these he gathered an influence that led 
man far beyond the gold and silver mines, up 
toward the stars, even to the pearly gates. And, 
as he sat down, the same hands clapped. Other 
speakers followed, battling manfully for their re- 
spective banners. When, finally," the vote was 
taken, so masterly were the arguments, or so de- 
voted were the audience to "filthy lucre," that 
money won. 

At length one evening we had an invited audi- 
ence and an appreciative one — as our mothers^ 



DECLAMATION EVENING 209 

sisters, and others who loved us were there to en- 
courage us In our efforts. Cousin Jennie, too, was 
there, and I nerved myself for my best effort. 
One of her smiles would pay me for all my labor 
on my selection. And dear old Aunt Rachel had 
come, for the first time since that cool autumn eve- 
ning when she bade us farewell several years 
before. With a tear glistening in her eye, she 
said, "The house and the old trees look natural, 
but I miss so many of my old boys and girls ! 
These young ones I hardly know now. We are 
all getting older." 

The exercises began, and as piece after piece was 
rendered in a creditable manner, the visitors smiled 
and rejoiced at these exhibitions of hitherto latent 
talent. A general invitation was now given for 
all declamation evenings, and we generally had an 
audience that incited us to greater efforts and in- 
spired us with higher aspirations. 

The girls who honored us with their presence on 
these notable evenings generally walked, in imita- 
tion of English girls who delight in such exercise, 
and the older boys were delighted at the chance of 
escorting some of them home. Those soft, mel- 
low autumn evenings ! I look back to them with a 
longing affection, for a new life was opening up to 
14 



2IO MEMORY DAYS 

my heart. Boyish diffidence was giving away to a 
desire to associate with bright, beautiful girls. 
Now, instead of being satisfied in giving them 
apples and grapes, I thought of flowers with their 
emblems, and pretty verses of poetry as a feast of 
a higher order for the soul. Prudes had said, 
"Attend to your lessons, my boy. You are too 
young to play with Cupid's darts. Your mind 
will be abstracted and distracted by the sparkle of 
bright eyes." The effect of such association was 
to make me study more diligently, and to arouse 
a desire to excel. 

Cousin Jennie was in Christiansburg at school. 
I just pored over the map of southwest Virginia 
to locate my fair cousin, and she seemed a thousand 
miles off! Then, the cruel teacher forbade even 
cousins to write to each other. I wondered if she 
ever had a sweetheart. Anyhow, I sent Cousin 
Jennie an original valentine, twenty verses of hexa- 
meter measure, the production of which cost me 
many late hours and much hard thinking. Of 
course I signed my name, as I wanted no doubt as 
to the author of such an effusion. She managed to 
send me a reply and thank me for my "nice 
poetry," also to inclose a geranium leaf. I read 
the letter over a dozen times and smelled the leaf 
clear away. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

NARROW ESCAPES 

"Ranged in a line the ready racers stand. 
Start from the goal, and vanish o'er the strand: 
Swift as on wings of wind upborne they fly, 
And drifts of rising dust involve the sky." 

—Pope. 

It was the week before Christmas. The old 
river had been frozen over, allowing pedestrians to 
pass safely across. A few sunny days, however, 
had made the bridge treacherous. The tailor on 
the opposite side was making suits for my brother 
and me, and as the boats were frozen fast in the 
ice, our treasures were so near and yet so far." 
Mortal boy could stand it no longer, Christmas, 
and no new suits to don. So we decided tO' cross 
on the ice bridge. We knew there was danger, as 
the ice was dotted with holes here and there, and 
the water was dark, cold, and deep. Each of us 
grasping a long, light pole about five feet from 
either end, we started on our perilous feat. If 
either of us broke in the pole would span the hole 
and help him to scramble out of the icy water. On 
we went, winding around the holes, and when 
about the middle of the stream we got almost 



212 MEMORY DAYS 

panic-stricken; but as It was as dangerous to re- 
treat as go forward, we still tried to reach the 
farther shore. When within eight or ten feet of 
the bank, the Ice having all melted away, we found 
a channel of water in our path. There was no 
time for delay, as every minute the ice was getting 
weaker under the warm sun. But my good angel 
whispered a way of escape. Placing the pole on 
the bottom In the middle of the channel I sprang 
across, and just did land on the slippery bank. 
My brother, taking the pole, tried twice, but failed 
to get beyond the vertical line, and so fell back on 
the Ice. It was an awful situation, and he began 
to cry. The third time he struck the edge, and as 
he began to slip down the steep bank into the water 
I caught and helped him up. We surely were on 
the edge of a watery grave. The home folks were 
so glad of our safety that they forgot to scold us. 
They cut a way for a canoe to come through the 
Ice and take us back. 

I once heard a man tell my father that he bet an 
Irishman fifty cents he could not lick an Iron 
wedge on a bitter cold morning. "Faith, an' I 
can,'' sang out Pat, and the tongue and wedge met, 
but stuck fast together. Pat jerked the wedge 
loose and tore off some of the skin of his tongue ! 
"By the holy saints, the cussed thing is bewitched !" 



NARROW ESCAPES 213 

said Pat by way of explanation. I had never 
studied philosophy, and having little confidence in 
Trent's veracity, I doubted the story. The next 
morning, when the mercury was dancing around 
zero, I spied an axe at the wood pile, all bespangled 
with crystals of frost. An evil spirit whispered to 
make the experiment and prove Trent to be indeed 
mistaken. So, gently I brought the tongue and 
axe together, and tightly they adhered to each 
other ! The more I pulled, the more of the unruly 
member clung to the iron. In my distress I went 
for help, my tears flowing fast. On opening the 
door to my vigorous kick, I presented to my dear 
relations the appearance of a juggler trying to 
swallow the axe, handle and all. ''Oh, my!" cried 
mother. "What's the boy doing?" exclaimed 
father. "He's got the axe in his mouth," piped 
in my brother. It was no- time for useless words, 
as mine were few. By the application of warm 
water and the heat of the fire the abominable thing 
let loose my tongue. Long did I sit by the fire 
that morning musing over the ups and downs of 
life. My sympathy went out to Pat, and I was no 
longer a doubting Thomas, and at the table, when 
some one asked me if I would have an axe in my 
bill of fare, I almost thought an ugly word. 

Where is the boy who does not like to gallop 



214 MEMORY DAYS 

a horse? There is an excitement and exhilaration 
in the gait that is inspiring. The boy also loves 
to run races on his pony with his neighbor. And 
horse racing was not always confined to the Dark 
and Bloody Ground. I plead guilty of this sin, 
though mine was unadulterated — no betting. In 
the summer evenings, Dick B., a white boy living 
on our place, and I volunteered to take the horses 
to a distant pasture. At first we rode bare-back, 
and would race across the field at a speed that the 
average Kentuckian rarely equalled. My father, 
to check this reckless amusement, forbade our tak- 
ing even bridles. He did not use the word "race." 
There was a technicality in the law by which the 
tenor of same might legally be avoided, so we 
decided to race without reins, bit, or saddle. The 
gap into the pasture was by a gentle slope, down 
which two paths started, at first several yards 
apart, but converging below Into one. Each 
armed with a long switch and on a horse in each 
path, at a given signal down the slope we dashed 
at full speed. Lo ! at the bottom of the slope the 
horses following the paths, ran together, side 
against side, with such force as to hurl each other 
to the ground on the right and left, the boys fortu- 
nately thrown several feet beyond the prostrate 
horses. Both boys and horses gave a groan, but 



NARROW ESCAPES 21 5 

except the shock no damage was done. We did 
not give the Incident to the reporter of the Home 
Journal. 

The next evening we tried the sport again. 
Dick headed his horse near a fence that had long 
stakes projecting over a pig-path that ran close by 
it. I started mine some distance out, on a parallel 
line. "Ready? Whoop!" away we went. Dick's 
horse took the pig path, and to save his brains he 
bowed to every stake as he passed under it. 
Glancing over and seeing Dick's extreme polite- 
ness, I was so convulsed with laughter that I just 
rolled off my horse, and lost the race. He still 
swept over the plain, but not near the fence nor 
converging paths. 

From the curse In Eden, down the ages, man 
has ever stood in dread of serpents. The sight of 
a snake makes him shudder, and retreat for a stick 
or stone wherewith to kill the deadly reptile. The 
rattler is the most honorable of them all, as by the 
singing of his rattles he gives warning of his pres- 
ence. When in coil he can spring several feet at 
his victim. I once heard a negro say that a rattler 
sprang at him and its tongue grazed his chin. 

I was down in the meadow one day watching 
the mowers with their scythes cutting the grass, for 
I always loved the smell of the new-mown 



2l6 MEMORY DAYS 

hay. I was barefooted, and by the edge of a 
swamp I stepped on some grass, which, blown 
down, formed a smooth matting. I stood there 
only a short time, but I thought the ground under 
my feet was very soft, and pretty soon I felt a cir- 
cular motion there, and then came a "Ziz, ziz!" 
At once I became a first-class acrobat, and with a 
"Whew!" I vaulted some five feet away and 
shouted for help. On cutting away the grass there 
was found a rattler four feet long, whose slumber 
I had disturbed. That evening his mate was also 
killed near by. 

The black snake and the rattler are deadly 
enemies, and, on meeting, there is a battle. The 
rattler, being clumsy, throws himself into coil for 
the defensive. The other, more active, begins to 
circle around his enemy, at first at a safe distance. 
Round and round, with almost lightning speed, he 
goes. The rattler, in trying to watch the other's 
swift movement, gradually becomes dizzy. 
Closer and closer the circle is drawn to the doomed 
victim. Then, at the right instant, he springs 
upon the rattler, grasps him by the back of his 
neck, and quickly encircling him in his coils, gives 
a contracted motion and it is all over with the 
rattler. 



CHAPTER XXVIII 



COMMENCEMENT DAY 

"Man loves knowledge, and the beams of truth 
More welcome touch his understanding's eye 
Than all the blandishments of sound his ear. 
Than all of taste his tongue." 



— Akenside. 



In the earlier days at Crystal Spring Seminary 
we studied Webster's old blue back Speller, and 
almost knew it by heart, from "baker" to "Nebu- 
chadnezzar." The frontispiece of that book was 
always a source of much interest to me. In the 
picture there was a temple standing on a steep hill, 
and the road leading up to it was winding and 
rocky. Upon the front of this beautiful building 
was written in golden letters, "Knowledge." At 
the foot of the hill a teacher had a little boy by 
the hand, and was pointing him up to this temple. 
Away beyond on a hill rising above this one and 
higher and steeper, was another temple, and on its 
highest front blazed the word "Fame." I soon 
learned that the road to the higher temple led 
through the lower one. I often studied the pic- 
ture, and wondered if the little boy ever reached 
the temples. 



2l8 MEMORY DAYS 

Many of the old books had given way to newer 
and better methods, as Pike tO' Ray in arithmetic; 
Olney to Mitchell, in geography; and Smith to 
Pinneo, in English grammar. Steel pens had 
driven the goose quill into the back ground, and 
the Spencerian copy plates, with their graceful 
curves, were hailed with delight. But to teach a 
pupil the first principles of Latin I have never yet 
seen a happier combination than old Bullion's 
Grammar and Reader. 

We were now nearing the second session under 
Mr. Paine. Things in school had drifted along 
smoothly, and we had advanced from one grade 
to another in our studies. The drill of the Friday 
evening exercises in declamation had brought forth 
good fruits. Boys who, a year ago, were timid 
and shaky when on the rostrum, and made awk- 
ward gestures, now were more at ease in their 
delivery and more graceful in their action. Also 
the improvement in composition had been such 
that some of the advanced pupils now and then 
entertained the audience by reading and declaiming 
original productions that brought forth expressions 
of applause. So, in view of the progress made, 
our teacher decided to close the session on a 
grander scale than Crystal Spring Seminary had 
ever seen. A few representative classes were to be 



COMMENCEMENT DAY 219 

examined in the morning, then a recess for a picnic 
dinner, and speaking In the evening. The larger 
boys were to write their speeches, and topics were 
chosen In time, so as not to conflict with work in 
our regular studies. Cousin Will was to have the 
valedictory, the honor speech. William Anderson 
was to make a stump speech in behalf of the Fill- 
more and Donelson ticket. My subject extended 
from the Atlantic to the Pacific, a patriotic effusion 
on "America." Faithfully did we work over 
them, writing, re-writing, memorizing, fitting in the 
gestures and pronouncing the big words. In my 
closing sentence, in a mighty effort for a ''curl," I 
got America up so high In the realms of glory, 
among the stars, that with difficulty did she get 
back to her old home on terra firma. 

A rostrum and seats were arranged In the grove, 
all in keeping with the dignity of the occasion. In 
writing and rehearsing my speech, thoughts as to 
what Jennie would say gave an inspiration to 
my pen and a new ardor to my zeal. 

At 9 o'clock one June morning the exercises 
began. Our fathers and mothers were there, 
friends from across the river came, and the old 
schoolhouse was crowded. Such an examination 
those good old people had never seen before, and 
they listened with pride to the inflections of Latin 



220 MEMORY DAYS 

and Greek verbs, to the translation of Virgil, and 
Greek fables, and to classes in history, familiar 
science and astronomy. Hard problems in Davie's 
Bourdon were solved at the board, and propo- 
sitions in Legendre were demonstrated to the 
wonder of the spectators. Last, but not least, 
came the class in the Shorter Catechism, and it 
astonished the audience by rattling off, without a 
halt, the questions on sanctification, justification, 
adoption, and baptism. 

At high noon the examination exercises closed. 
Soon the invitations were given to the feast of good 
things on the well-laden tables in the grove. 
Several negro "uncles" and "aunts" were there, 
and they waited on the tables nicely. Said Aunt 
Eliza, our cook, to me, when I refused a choice 
dish, "La ! child, you must eat, if you's gwine to 
speak dis evenin'." 

After the feast of sweet and fat things, with a 
breathing spell between, came the feast of mind. 
MolHe, a bright little girl, recited a salutatory 
poem, gracefully introducing the exercises. Every- 
thing passed off smoothly, not a trip in memory. 
Our friends smiled and applauded, the curious visi- 
tor admired the tone of things, the negroes were 
delighted, and the very trees seemed to look 
down upon us in quiet approval. When WiUiam 



COMMENCEMENT DAY 221 

A. closed his political speech with "Three cheers 
for Fillmore and Donelson !" two or three old 
Whigs joined him in a modest whoop. Old Uncle 
Humphrey, on the outskirts, thinking the meeting 
at fever heat, joined in with, "Dat's so, glory! 
amen!" Cousin William, a strong Democrat, 
looked solemn over the enthusiasm. Nat Morris 
then, in a labored effort, discussed the vexed 
question of ''Labor and Capital," and many regular 
declamations were rendered in good style. Belle 
W. read a composition on "Gates," a subject that 
at first struck the audience as prosy. But the 
bright little girl, beginning with the gates of Eden, 
and ending with the Pearly Gates of John's 
wonderful vision in Revelation, was applauded 
handsomely as she took her seat. 

As the farewell of Will's valedictory, taken up 
by the echoes of the grove, died away, a feeling of 
sadness swept over our hearts. The singing class, 
embracing nearly all the pupils, then sang that 
good old song, "Good-bye," and at its close many 
eyes were moist. 

Then came congratulatory remarks. A big, 
rough-looking mountaineer, shaking WiUiam A.'s 
hand heartily, said, "Billy, you's chuck full of 
politics. Some day we'll run you for sheriff or 
gov'nor, or something of the kind." Cousin Jennie 



222 MEMORY DAYS 

slipped a dainty little bouquet into my hand and 
whispered, "I was proud of you." Gold could 
not have bought those words from me. Her eye 
had nerved me all through my speech, and then 
the fragrance of those flowers ! Old man Watkins 
the blacksmith, squinting at me through his glasses, 
remarked, "Young man, you just tore Ameriky all 
to pieces!" The thought flashed Into my mlncl 
that maybe I had so treated my subject. Uncle 
Humphrey told me, "My stars, Alexander, you 
s'prlsed me." 

The handshaking and the good-bys were over, 
and the door of Crystal Spring Seminary closed 
on another session. The sun went down in a flood 
of glory that evening, a fitting close of the greatest 
day of our school. 



CHAPTER XXIX 

THE VIRGINIA MILITARY INSTITUTE. 

"From early youth war has my mistress been, 
And though a rugged one, I'll constant prove 
And not forsake her now; 
The flashes of contending steel 
Must serve instead of glances from my love, 
And soft breathing sighs, the cannon's roar." 

On the walls of the Military Institute at Lexing- 
ton the flag of the Old Dominion had been floating 
since 1839. Often I had heard it spoken of as a 
school where the boys wore uniforms with stripes 
on the pants, the coats bespangled with pretty 
buttons, and where they were drilled and trained 
for soldiers, eating rough fare and sleeping on hard 
beds. And when, for the first time, I saw a cadet 
at Falling Spring Church, I was charmed with 
his appearance, so neat, so erect, and with such 
quick, elastic step. I looked on him as a new 
species of the genus homo, a more finished type 
than the common pattern. I read more about 
Alexander and Napoleon, and, fired with a martial 
spirit, I hoped to go there, learn to be a soldier, 
and I thought that, should war come, I might be a 
hero. 



224 MEMORY DAYS 

When I first saw the Institute sitting in all its 
grim dignity on the hill, its turrets and towers 
reminding me of pictures of the old castles of 
the Middle Ages, I thought it very grand. I 
rode close to its walls, and saw the cannon with 
their murderous-looking mouths bidding defiance 
to any foe. 

Soon there came the rat-ta-tat of the drums, and 
cadets came pouring out from under the great arch, 
with burnished guns, cartridge-boxes, and white 
belts, the officers with swords and nodding plumes, 
and all presented to me a novel picture. In reply 
to my question as to the stir, I was told it was for 
drill. "Fall in!" cry the orderly sergeants, and 
the four companies form and march off to the 
parade ground, all keeping step to the music of the 
band. Then Major Gilham took command and 
the drilling began. They moved in straight lines 
to the front, to the right and left, wheeled around 
in circles, formed a hollow square, double-quicked 
across the grounds, looking like a beautiful 
machine worked by a master hand. It was the 
prettiest sight I had ever seen, and I thought that 
even Napoleon's Old Guard was far surpassed 
by that brilliant array of young warriors. 

As the flag passed near me I admired its beauti- 
ful design, and asked the meaning of the words, 



THE VIRGINIA MILITARY INSTITUTE 225 

"Sic semper tyrannls." '*Take your foot off my 
neck!" said a wise-looking chap near me. Not 
knowing the significance of the picture, my sympa- 
thy went out to the fellow lying on his back. 

The "Glorious Fourth" used to be a great day 
in old Lexington. On this day the commencement 
exercises of the Institute were celebrated, closing 
with fireworks and a grand ball. Many 
visitors from a distance came, and the country from 
far and near flocked in to the show. I cut a notch 
high on my stick the day I, too, celebrated with 
the other patriotic citizens. I heard the booming 
of the cannon in salute at sunrise, and I was early 
on the ground. The corps, in martial array, 
marched to the Presbyterian Church, the music of 
the brass band stirring the very soul of the old 
town. Col. Francis H. Smith, the model superin- 
tendent, tall and graceful in his bearing, presided. 
First, the Declaration of Independence was read 
by one of the graduating class, then the National 
oration, and one or two other speeches followed. 
Then the diplomas were given, an address to the 
corps by some noted speaker thrilled the audience, 
and the band played "Good-bye." 

As soon as the shades of night had fallen, the 
parade ground of several acres was well filled by 



226 MEMORY DAYS 

hundreds to witness the fireworks. This display, 
to me, was a new page of history, and It was grand. 
The last rocket described Its graceful curve, ex- 
ploded In flames of purple and crimson tints, and 
that exhibition was over. 

The tide now turned toward the ball-room In the 
mess hall. Woe ! unto the Romeo who had no 
ticket, for he would be denied admittance by the 
stern sentinels at the door. 

Into the brilliantly lighted and handsomely 
decorated hall the crowd surged and promenaded 
round and round, until the leader of the orchestra 
sang out, ''Get your partners." And then 

"When music arose with its voluptuous swell, 
Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, 
And all went merry as the marriage bell." 

It was the first dancing I had even seen. The 
music was enchanting, but the men looked like 
monkeys cutting figures on the floor, whilst the 
ladles moved around gracefully. If you wish tO' 
prove Darwin's theory, of man's evolution from 
the monkey, just watch him cut the "pigeon wing" 
in a dance hall. The square dances and the "old 
Virginia reel" were In favor, as only a few couples 
were seen waltzing. 

In that hall were representatives of the beauty 



THE VIRGINIA MILITARY INSTITUTE 227 

and chivalry of Virginia, for, from country and 
town, many belles and beaux had come to join In 
the festive occasion. 

At one o'clock supper was announced, and the 
music ceased. "From labor to refreshments," the 
dancers went. Again the fiddle strings were tuned 
and the revelers "tripped the light fantastic toe" 
until dawn began to crimson the east, when the 
lights were extinguished and the banquet hall 
deserted. 

I used to hear much of Interest connected with 
the school. New cadets were hazed with a rough 
hand, "bucked," dragged, or ducked. A little 
fellow from Texas with cowboy pluck, once re- 
sisted, and when they came at him In overwhelm- 
ing numbers, with a hone he knocked ten In a pile 
before he was overpowered. 

Maj. Thos. J. Jackson was the artillery drill- 
master. The lowest class furnished the locomo- 
tive power — In place of horses — for the guns. One 
time when the battery was moving at full speed 
down the slope and the Major running by the side, 
a wheel came off and fairly whizzed after him. 
"Look out Major! The wheel's a comin'!" cried 
the cadet officers. He never turned to look and 
the wheel grazed his side. Had there been a 
collision the wreck might have been a serious one. 



228 MEMORY DAYS 

Col. Jas. Massie, some years before, had been 
commandant there. I heard him tell this incident. 
He was drilling the corps and ordered a "charge 
bayonet movement going toward a high, close 
board fence on the west side of the ground. He 
was stepping backward between the line of glitter- 
ing steel, and the fence. He forgot the command 
"Halt." Finally he backed against the fence and 
on came the line of steel! Perspiration oozed 
from his forehead in great drops, his limbs quaked 
but the word came not. When within a few steps 
of the fence he shouted in a stentorian voice, 
"Confound you, stop!" The order was not from 
tactics, but they stopped. For a few minutes all 
order was broken in peals of laughter at his sad 
predicament. Said the Colonel, "I never after- 
ward gave an order for 'charge bayonets' in front 
of a plank fence." 

In 1856, I think, the State placed a bronze 
statue of Washington at its Military Institute. 
The unveiling was on July 4th, and the oration 
was delivered by Hon. R. M. T. Hunter, a 
Virginia Congressman. I remember well the ap- 
plause and the booming of the cannon in salute. 

The teaching In the school was of a practical 
character, and It made excellent mathematicians 
and civil engineers. The military training and 



THE VIRGINIA MILITARY INSTITUTF 229 

discipline fitted men to preside over railroads, in- 
surance companies, or any corporation requiring 
a close insight into details, but it did not give the 
classic finish like its sister school on the same hill. 
I heard it said that in Latin the cadet read in 
Caesar until he got to the "bridge," and finding it 
washed away, retreated to the lines of English. In 
drilling the corps was said to equal that of West 
Point. I saw Major Hardie, the commandant at 
West Point, drill the V. M. I. boys at one com- 
mencement. He was reported as saying they exe- 
cuted movements as well as his corps, only, not 
being accustomed to his voice, they were a little 
slower in catching the commands. 

In the spring of 1861 the war cloud was loom- 
ing upon the horizon. The deep mutterings of 
the coming storm could be heard in the distance 
and the wiser and more prudent looked anxious. 
In Lexington political feeling ran very high. A 
strong Union sentiment prevailed in the town, 
especially among the mechanics and tradesmen. 
On the other hand, the students of the College and 
the cadets were almost unanimous in their sympa- 
thy with the seceded States. The corps of the 
Institute was a splendid body of young men, repre- 
senting the chivalry of the Old Dominion and the 
best blood from many Southern States. There was 



230 MEMORY DAYS 

no congeniality between them and the majority of 
the Union party of the town. Some of the latter, 
of the plebeian order, as opportunity was pre- 
sented, would deride and jeer the cadets for their 
"rebellious" principles. Of course there were 
bitter retorts, and the feeling arose to such a pitch 
that only a spark was wanting for an explosion. 

A lot of Unionists in the town decided to show 
their loyalty to the old flag by unfurling it from the 
top of a lofty pole, to be raised in front of the 
court-house. Late one evening this pole was 
brought in, dressed and left lying in the street 
ready for raising on the morrow. That night 
some one by boring holes, made it useless for 
the jubilee. I never heard who did the mis- 
chief, but they blamed the cadets, and indignation 
was at the boiling point. Some of them swore 
vengeance against the boys with stripes and buttons. 

On the Saturday following a small party of 
cadets, being uptown, were assaulted in a store, 
by a much large number of town roughs. The 
cadets got the worst of the skirmish and beat a 
hasty retreat to the barracks, where they related 
their rough treatment. It was the spark, and the 
pent-up fires burst forth. 

The long-roll was beaten and the cry was, "Get 
your guns ! We'll storm the town !" Some of the 



THE VIRGINIA MILITARY INSTITUTE 23 1 

professors, hearing the confusion, appeared on the 
scene, but they could not restrain the maddened 
crowd. Some, In their Impetuosity, started at once 
for the town with guns and ammunition. In squads, 
or straggling, as each one got ready. Captain 
McCausland, a professor, and afterward a general, 
told them If they were determined to go, to organ- 
ize first and go with some system. This advice 
resulted In halting the advanced squads at the old 
tavern, at the foot of Main Street, about half a 
mile from the Institute. In the wagon yard they 
awaited the arrival of others, who poured In as a 
turbid stream. 

About 3 o'clock in the evening, on looking out 
of my window in the College on the hill near by, 
I saw the gleam of bayonets. Rushing down to 
the tavern, I found the yard full of cadets In a 
state of wild excitement. Major Gilham, the 
commandant, told them to form their companies, 
and It was but the work of a few minutes to or- 
ganize. In unreasonable madness their sole in- 
tention seemed to be to storm the town; that it 
was responsible for the wrong done them. 

Up town all was excitement, as the report 
spread that the cadets were coming on a mission 
of vengeance. The Union party were arming 
themselves to give the young soldiers a warm re- 



232 MEMORY DAYS 

ceptlon, knowing they had the advantage in firing 
on the unprotected hnes from doors and windows. 
It was a critical point, both in the history of the 
town and of the Institute. 

Down in the yard at the foot of the hill all 
things were about ready for the forward move- 
ment. The companies had their officers, their car- 
tridge-boxes were full, and all were waiting for 
the order to march. Just then a tall, military- 
looking man came up at a rapid pace, and, ascend- 
ing the stile, stood with arms folded and for a 
moment surveyed the scene before him. It was 
Col. Francis Smith, the superintendent, who it 
seemed had just heard of the trouble and came 
in the crisis of the affair. The moral grandeur 
of that scene surpassed anything of the kind I have 
ever witnessed. There he stood, calmly looking 
down into the flashing eyes and upon the glittering 
bayonets ready to be bathed in the blood of Lex- 
ington's citizens. In those ranks were dear young 
men who, he knew, would be slain in the streets 
if they went forward. Stretching out his hand 
over the battalion the buzzing gradually subsided 
and at length there was silence. Then he said, 
"Young gentlemen, I know you have received a 
great wrong, and you have my sympathy. I am 
your friend. This is not the way to right the 



THE VIRGINIA MILITARY INSTITUTE 233 

matter. I appeal to your reason and better na- 
tures. A moral victory jls better than a bloody 
one. Follow me and I will see that you get re- 
dress." Then stepping down from the stile he 
started toward the Institute. There was a dead 
silence for a few moments, but moral influence 
triumphed and the crisis was over. One and an- 
other began to say, "Let's go back," and on a sud- 
den, as If by magic, the companies broke ranks and 
all followed their esteemed Instructor. 

It showed the splendid discipline of the school 
and that only one born to rule, In one minute, could 
have transformed a whole corps of cadets from 
madmen to order and obedience. 

On arriving at the Institute, Colonel Smith took 
them Into one of the society halls, gave them good 
advice, showed them their rashness, and how near 
it led to a tragedy written In their own blood. 
Some of the professors made speeches and the 
prospect for war was touched upon. It was there 
that Jackson, afterward "Stonewall," made the 
famous remark, "If we have to fight, let us draw 
the sword and throw away the scabbard." An 
order was issued that for the present no cadet 
should go up town. 

In a few days Virginia seceded, and those gal- 
lant young men, under Jackson, were ordered to 



234 MEMORY DAYS 

Richmond. There they rendered valuable service 
as drill-masters. Then in more active service they 
won laurels on many a hard-fought field. Grand 
and noble, old "V. M. I.," I salute you for your 
past, I praise you for your present, and I bid 
you God-speed in a future course of usefulness and 
prosperity. 



CHAPTER XXX 

FALLING SPRING CHURCH 

"On thy calm joys with what delight I dream. 
Thou dear green valley of my native stream! 
Fancy o'er thee still waves enchanting wand." 

— Bloomiield. 

There was a pleasure in the home life of my 
boyhood on the old farm by the James that only 
deepens with the years. Often have I wished that 
again as a little barefooted boy I could wade in 
the spring branch, or gambol over the grassy hills. 
And it is sweet to recall scenes and incidents con- 
nected with the spot that is hallowed in memory. 
Whenever in the early spring I hear the frogs 
singing, I am carried back to the old home, and, 
sitting on the porch, I again hear the music among 
the green willows in the pond by the meadow. 

Ours was a busy home; there were no drones 
in the hive. We were trained to work, from feed- 
ing the little lambs up to following the big plow. 
Thus, industry, as we grew older, was woven into 
the warp of our beings. So many pets on the 
farm intensify the boy's devotion to his home ; the 
kitten, the dog, the lamb, the calf, the pony, all 



236 MEMORY DAYS 

have a hold on his affection. Pure mountain air 
and freestone water gave us muscle, and roses on 
our cheeks. Obedience was taught as the first les- 
son, and if a pupil was slow in learning, his ideas 
were quickened by the application of the rod. Yet 
we only loved and respected our parents all the 
more. We never grew restless under this whole- 
some discipline, nor wished to go to a far country. 
In fact, we half regretted that the day, sooner or 
later, would come for us to leave the home nest 
and try our wings in finding other homes. 

Our church was Falling Spring, one of the old 
Presbyterian churches of the Valley. It was built 
of stone, emblematic of the solid faith, of the 
brave pioneers who laid its foundations, and It 
stood on the edge of a beautiful strip of woodland. 
At the foot of the hill a spring gushing out fell 
with a gentle murmur over a ledge into the pool 
below. All the surroundings of the old church 
were beautiful. 

Although we lived six miles distant and had to 
cross the river, we were generally among the first 
to arrive on Sunday mornings. With few excep- 
tions the whole country was of our faith, and 
from a circle within a radius of five miles or more 
the good people came trooping in from all direc- 
tions. And very many of these fathers and moth- 



FALLING SPRING CHURCH 237 

ers who thus came up to ZIon's Hill, bringing their 
little ones with them and training them up in the 
law and the prophets, were the very salt of the 
earth. The pews had doors, the pulpit, on a plat- 
form four steps high, was closed in on the sides by 
a railing, and over it was a sounding-board in 
shape like the dome of a mosque. The old fam- 
ily pews, with all together in the church below, are 
figurative of all together in the church above. 
Within those walls and surrounded by such tender 
associations Christian character was molded that 
could battle bravely with the temptations of the 
world. The little babes came into those homes 
and soon in their snowy robes and spotless purity 
they were given to the Lord in baptism. The years 
rolled by, the covenant promise was fulfilled, and 
on sacramental mornings the dear young people, 
one by one, came from the Session House with a 
look of quiet joy as they entered the new life. 
"The promise is to you and to your children." 

And, too, there was a social pleasure connected 
with the old church. Friends met and exchanged 
kindly words, heard of others' ills or joys, and 
sympathized or rejoiced with them. The young 
people especially enjoyed the meeting in the grove 
on their arrival, when courtesies would be ex- 
tended by young men to young women. Here and 



238 MEMORY DAYS 

there, near some well-known dismounting block 
or carriage stand, a young beau could be seen 
patiently awaiting the arrival of his sweetheart. 
Her kindly words and bright smiles amply repaid 
him, if young and timid, for the trial of running 
the gauntlet of curious spectators as he escorted 
her through the church yard to the door. 

After the doxology and benediction, again the 
business of gallantry at the doors was revived in 
a brisk manner, and of rivals the one nearest the 
door was the fortunate one. Carnage doors had 
to be opened, saddle-horses brought up to the 
block, riding-skirts thrown over the graceful fig- 
ures, and the stirrup adjusted to the dainty little 
feet. Then the more devoted swains decided to 
escort the dear creatures home, take dinner, eat 
some of the choice cake, compliment "pa" on the 
looks of his crops, and try to tell "grandma" some- 
thing of the sermon. 

On our road home were many girls and boys as 
brothers and sisters. These would pair off and 
ihus relieve the monotony of the homeward ride. 
In my early "teens" I noticed that the girls gen- 
erally preferred going to church on horseback. 
Afterward I understood better the why and the 
wherefore. Very pleasant were these rides with 
such companions, and I imagine that, in addition 



FALLING SPRING CHURCH 239 

to comments on the sermon of the morning, an 
analysis was sometimes made of the text, "Love 
thy neighbor as thyself." At the turning off places 
brothers and sisters again met, and loved each 
other as before the separation. 

Falling Spring was a representative church of 
the Valley. For thirty years Rev. John D. Ewing 
was its pastor. He was one of the grand old min- 
isters of the State. Having baptized our babies, 
married our young people, and buried our precious 
dead for so long a time he was dearly loved by his 
flock. Flis sermons, the communion Sabbaths, and 
the revival days all made the old church hallowed 
in our memory. As the shepherd of the flock the 
bread he broke was pure and sweet. His voice 
had a musical ring that was pleasant to hear, and 
there was nothing sensational in his subject-matter 
nor manner. His style was so plain that a child 
could understand. In his long pastorate the num- 
ber enrolled on the church book, by comparison 
with sister churches, showed that his labors had 
been especially blessed in winning souls. And 
doubtless there were many stars in the crown the 
Master gave him when He called him home. 

The singing was general, not confined to the 
choir. When Mr. Parry, the leader, struck his 
fork and caught the tune the music filled the house. 



240 MEMORY DAYS 

They always sang a doxology at the close of the 
service. The cemetery was a sacred spot, for in it 
slept the dust of the fathers and mothers of the 
church. I loved to walk in it and read the in- 
scriptions on the monuments. The lowly mounds 
were covered with periwinkle and in the summer 
dotted with wild violets. A holy stillness brooded 
over the place and made one tread more lightly 
around the graves of the sainted dead. 



CHAPTER XXXI 

CONCERNING COURTSHIP , 

"Wedded love is founded on esteem, 
Which the fair merits of the mind engage; 
For those are charms which never can decay. 
But time, which gives new whiteness to the swan, 
Improves their lustre." 



— Fenton. 



A bashful youth longed to tell his love to the 
girl of his choice, and tell her how his heart beat 
for her alone, and to ask her to be his wife. 
Finally he vowed by the bow and arrows of Cupid 
that he would ask the young lady on his very next 
visit. When they were alone in the dimly lighted 
parlor, in a tremulous tone he began, "Miss Juliet, 
I've always thought lots of you. I think of you 
in the daytime and I dream of you 'most every 
night. You are the dearest girl to me in all this 
country and — " Just then the damsel threw up 
her hands and exclaimed, "Hush, hush ! you scare 
me!" The poor fellow thought he was on the 
wrong road to success and, in obedience, he hushed. 
There was an ominous pause and a quick beating 
of hearts. Juliet did not fancy the turn things 
were taking, and decided to be aggressive In the 
i6 



242 MEMORY DAYS 

matter, so giving him a side glance and a smile, 
she said, "Scare me again!" The mercury in his 
heart's thermometer ran right up to lOO, and he 
scared her again ! 

I used to hear how a timid lover In North Caro- 
lina "popped the question." Taking a piece of 
pine wood he cut it into some artistic shape, as a 
dagger, or a heart, and sent this to his lady love. 
She thus Interpreted the mute emblem, "I pine." 
If she did not care for him she burned one end 
slightly and returned the gift. He thus read, "I 
make light of your affections." But if the refrain 
to the song of her heart was, "Scare me again," 
she cut a knot on one end and sent It back to the 
anxious donor. He interpreted it thus, "Pine not." 

Variety is said to be the spice of life and surely 
it adds a pleasure to courtship. I heard of an old 
bachelor whose hard heart Cupid at last pierced, 
and he decided to ask Miss Nancy, an old maid, 
to marry him. Mounting his steed he was soon 
at her home and called her from the porch to the 
gate. Then he blurted out: "Miss Nancy, I likes 
you powerfully and wants you tO' be my wife. I'm 
goln' down to old man B.'s to buy a cow. Think 
about it and tell me when I come back. Good 
morning." Miss Nancy's thoughts never whirled 
through her brain so before and she was standing 



CONCERNING COURTSHIP 243 

at the gate when he rode back. Before he got to 
the gate he called out, "What do you say, Miss 
Nancy? All right?" And she sang out in a 
tenor key, "Yes." And I suppose they lived as 
happily together as if they had spent two or three 
years in interchanging geranium blooms, rosebuds, 
and billet doux. 

A young man once imagined his admiration to 
be the very flower of womanhood. Calling unex- 
pectedly one evening he was ushered by one of the 
juveniles into the parlor adjoining the family sit- 
ting-room, and the girl was not informed of the 
presence of her admirer. He had ears to hear and 
he heard. The soft, sweet voice of Miss Angelina 
was changed into harsh, angry tones as she spoke 
disrespectfully to her mother. Then he heard her 
slap her little sister who immediately set up a bawl, 
and above it all rose the voice of his adored, "Shut 
up, you brat you !" Guided by some evil genius, 
she suddenly burst into the parlor and stood be- 
fore him with the mask off. Amazed at meeting 
him she just stood still, and wringing her hands 
cried out, "Oh, Harry Bell, I didn't know you were 
here!" "I see you didn't," he said. He took her 
picture in a snap-shot style. She wore an untidy 
wrapper, her hair had a tousled appearance, and 



244 MEMORY DAYS 

her cheeks lacked the accustomed bloom. He 
bowed himself out and he stayed out! 

The following Incident will show how, on one 
occasion, spelling checked the courting. In Fred- 
ericksburg, Virginia, there lived an excellent lady, 
the mother of several charming daughters. They 
were at the blooming period of schoolgirl life, and 
their sensible mother did not wish them to blend 
books and society, a combination generally fatal 
to mental cultivation. But the bright eyes and 
glossy ringlets of these lasses possessed a magnetic 
attraction, strong indeed, upon certain susceptible 
youths of their acquaintance. 

The mother, a cultivated, shrewd woman, knew 
well the effect of frequent calls upon the intellect- 
ual progress of her fair daughters, and that the 
whisperings of Cupid made discord in the music of 
the schoolroom. And yet, there was a delicate 
question to handle. These young Romeos were 
from families in the same social standing, whose 
mothers and sisters visited in her home. What 
was she to do? Wound the feelings of these ju- 
venile aspirants to her own gracious sm_iles, by 
closing her doors upon them? No. This would 
be cruel and very impolite. 

In opening the campaign she felt safe in issuing 
a general order, to be as fixed as the laws of the 



CONCERNING COURTSHIP 245 

Medes and Persians, that only on Friday nights 
should the young ladles entertain. As Romeo 
heard the latest from headquarters, his counte- 
nance was grave, and his heart sad; yet he grace- 
fully accepted the restriction to his social pleasure, 
throwing, as it did, a damper on his budding 
hopes. 

On Friday evenings the parlor was radiant with 
light and beauty, vocal with merry voices and 
sweet music. The good mother observed and, as 
a few weeks glided by, she drew conclusions more 
adverse than ever. She decided that this social dis- 
sipation of these evenings would be demoralizing 
to studious habits, and that soft glances and flat- 
tering speeches did not point the minds of her 
daughters up the hill of science. 

A happy thought came to her rescue. She would 
try a new weapon in the warfare. She seemed to 
be suddenly awakened to the fact that too little at- 
tention was given to spelling in schools. She spoke 
of its weight in education, and of her earnest de- 
sire to have her daughters proficient in this branch. 
She thereupon announced that she would have a 
weekly drill, in the home, in spelling, and that Fri- 
day evening would be the most suitable time for 
such a literary feast. So, the details were ar- 
ranged, a speller selected, and a lesson assigned 



246 MEMORY DAYS 

for the next night, when George T. and Willie R. 
were to call. 

The evening came, the parlor was bright, the 
boys arrived, the radiant maidens glided in, and 
happiness reigned therein. About the time the 
social merriment seemed at its height, behold, in 
walked the mother, book in hand, followed by the 
juvenile band of the household, several of whom 
were to take part with their older sisters in this in- 
tellectual diversion. 

In her most pleasing manner she apologized for 
seeming to intrude, explained her new plan to the 
callers, and said she knew they would join in and 
enjoy the exercise. To gain her esteem they were 
willing to climb a mountain, face a ghost, do any- 
thing but spell! No time was given to offer ex- 
cuses, as, at once, the exercise began. 

Nearer and nearer, around the circle, came the 
words. The boys' hearts beat faster, their color 
became florid, and drops of perspiration dotted 
their brows! George was next. The word 
"phthisic" was given out. He twisted in his chair, 
ran his fingers through his hair, and in an almost 
choking voice, said, "tizick." 

There was a titter amongst the little folks, a 
smile on the faces of the older girls, but the mother 
was dignified, and passed the word to Willie, who, 



CONCERNING COURTSHIP 247 

with fearful forebodings, sat dreading his fate. 
He knew there was a "p" in the word, and spurted 
out ''ptisick." 

The juveniles snorted out in laughter, and the 
mother had to smile. Then passing the word to 
one of the smaller girls, she spelled it correctly. 

The second round she gave the boys easier 
words, and they acquitted themselves more satis- 
factorily. In the third round Willie got the word 
"billet doux," which, after much mental agony, 
he spelled thus, "billydoo." A general titter fol- 
lowed. As if meeting grim death, George tackled 
the abominable word! "Billiedue," he gasped out. 
All had to laugh. At this embarrassing juncture, 
the mother, taking pity on the boys, told them she 
would excuse them on the rest of the lesson, but 
the next time she would expect them to go through. 

The lesson over, the queenly mother, after chat- 
ting awhile, bade them good evening, and marched 
the little folks to the nursery. 

The boys were not happy, their ideas did not 
flow so readily as before the ordeal, and they soon 
bowed themselves out. When revived by the fresh 
air and around the corner, George said: 

"Well, didn't we disgrace ourselves! I never 
could spell." 

"The old lady is a crank and spelling is her 



248 MEMORY DAYS 

hobby," Willie replied. "You'll not catch me 
there next time." 

They agreed to keep quiet and let James K. and 
Harry B. enjoy the fun the "next time." These 
hopeful youths, in blissful ignorance of their fate, 
called, they tried to spell, they missed, they per- 
spired, they twisted, and inwardly vowed that they 
would not spell again until they had memorized 
the dictionary. 

The four met in an experience meeting, pro- 
tested against such modern innovations against 
the rights and pleasure of visiting young gentle- 
men, and took a solemn pledge not to call again 
until that spelling was stopped. Yet, they only de- 
plored the plan, and did not have unkind feelings 
toward the good mother, who, in so artful a man- 
ner defeated them in their attacks upon the fair 
citadel of her home. 

She kept up the spelling-class, and not until 
those lovely girls had bloomed into lovelier women 
did she tell them how she outgeneralled the boys 
who were trying to be devoted to her schoolgirl 
daughters. And they, in their maturer wisdom, 
and from a higher point of intelligence, deemed 
themselves fortunate In having a mother so wise 
and judicious. 

Country weddings in the well-to-do' homes of 



CONCERNING COURTSHIP 249 

the olden time were very elaborate affairs, much 
sewing, much cooking, much inviting. A swell 
wedding was always at night, and the whole neigh- 
borhood was invited. The grounds were lit up, 
there were flowers on every hand, an array of at- 
tendants, a rolling of carriages, and a flashing of 
rich costumes. The ceremony over, the blessing 
pronounced, the "man and wife" led the guests to 
the dining-room. The thing of most interest con- 
nected with the supper was the cutting of the 
"bride's cake," in which was a ring. The one 
who got the ring would be the next to wear a wed- 
ding-ring. Maiden ladies of uncertain years, with 
nervous hands would select a piece, and the bach- 
elors felt cautiously for their. 

I used to hear some funny things connected with 
weddings. My mother told us of a young Irish- 
man who, by good behavior and industry, took 
a stand in good society. He was being married 
to a lady who had several slaves. Pat was de- 
lighted with the idea of having the slaves to work 
for him, and when, in the ceremony, the minister 
came to the question, "Do you take this woman 
whom you hold by the hand to be your lawful and 
wedded wife?" Pat, who doubtless wished to clinch 
everything as in a trade, sang out, "Faith, and the 
naigers too." 



150 MEMORY DAYS 

When the eldest daughter of a friend of mine 
was married they had a big wedding, and of course 
many guests. After the supper the minister was 
talking to the father, and remarked, "I tell 
you, Squire, it is a solemn thing for our girls to 
marry and go off." Said the Squire, rubbing his 
hands, "I tell you, parson, it is more solemn not 
to." In my boyhood the wedding-bells were ring- 
ing every now and then along the James and out 
among the hills. I was often real sorry when some 
stranger from over the mountains would come and 
steal away some of our pretty young ladies who 
were nice to me and for whom I had a boyish ad- 
miration. 

Of the characters, outside of my home, that 
stand out conspicuous in the picture of my boy- 
hood, my kindly feelings go out to none more than 
to the family of the physician. I can still see Doc- 
tor Watson going his rounds to see his patients, 
looking so wise in my boyish estimation. He had 
a touch of the Irish brogue, and was the life of a 
party or picnic. He was a representative of the 
medical profession of that day. The old-fashioned 
doctor did everything tO' heal and cure, from the 
pill which he made himself to setting a broken 
limb or pulling a tooth. Calomel was a power in 
casting out the evil spirits of disease and a hot 



CONCERNING COURTSHIP 25 I 

poultice or a fly blister had wonderful virtues. He 
lived up to the old song, 

"He bleeds with his lancet, 
And he bleeds with his bill." 

Cupping was a favorite means of reheving 
pain. An old negro woman was describing a tyro 
in medicine. "He's mighty keerful. He won't 
give you nothin' doubtful, but jist goes home and 
reads up about you." 

After singing and dancing with toothache I was 
sent on one occasion to the doctor to have it pulled. 
But the tooth quieted as if pleading for mercy 
long before I got to the doctor, and I came near 
returning home. But I bravely faced the music. 
He sat me in an arm chair with a big negro girl 
to hold my head. Then with a clumsy instrument 
like a brace he pried the tooth out of its socket. 
My head had to come off or the tooth come out, 
one or the other. I yelled too late, for the tooth 
was out. 

I heard this of a Philadelphia doctor. Sitting 
in his oflice one morning, smoking a cigar, and 
dreaming under its soothing effects, a young man 
came in for a prescription. The doctor felt his 
pulse, glanced at his tongue and wrote a prescrip- 
tion. As the young man started to leave, the doc- 



252 MEMORY DAYS 

tor caught his name. "Say, what was your father's 
name? Live In Trenton?" "Yes." "Go to Medi- 
cal College in Philadelphia in 1850?" "Yes, sir." 
"Look here, young man, your father and I were 
roommates. Tear up that thing, and come here 
and let me see what's the matter with you." 

A neighbor said his boy Philander was fit for 
nothing else and he would make a doctor out of 
him. So, in a few years, Philander came home 
from a second-rate medical college a devoted son 
of Aesculapius. His father, who had a large num- 
ber of negroes and much sickness that summer 
among them, told Philander to practice on them. 
A valuable man got sick. Philander prescribed 
and the patient soon died. His father told him, 
"Philander, go out to the mountains and kill the 
mountaineers. I can't afford to furnish $1,200 
negroes for you to experiment on." Doctor Wat- 
son asked him about his patient. Said Philander, 
"I couldn't tell what was the matter with the nig- 
ger and so mixed up a whole lot of medicines and 
gave them to him to try to jump up the disease. 
But I jumped him out of the ring." 



CHAPTER XXXII 

THE LAST SCHOOL DAY AT THE SEMINARY 

'"Tis vain to weep; to speak, to sigh. 

Oh! more than words can tell 
When rung from grief's expiring eye 
In that word, farewell! farewell!" 

— Byron. 

The commencement at Washington College In 
Lexington came off the week after the close of our 
last session. Mr. Paine and several of his pupils 
attended. I had only seen the college buildings 
from a distance, sitting on the hill in all their quiet 
dignity, with their great white pillars standing 
out in bold relief, and the statue of Washington 
on the dome. But now I walked along the 
great colonnade, surveyed the campus, looked into 
the society halls, visited the libraries, and felt 
that I was on sacred ground. Then came the final 
day when the students, wearing badges and pre- 
ceded by a brass band, marched over to the Pres- 
byterian Church, the speeches were made, the di- 
plomas conferred, the medals bestowed, and the 
exerises closed with "Home, Sweet Home," by 
the band. I looked on with wonder and delight 
and there stole into my heart an aspiration to enter 



254 MEMORY DAYS 

those classic halls and reap the worthy reward of 
literary labor. 

Again the call came for us to enter the school- 
room, and we were more diligent than ever in our 
studies. Few things occurred to break into the 
monotony of school life. All were steadily climb- 
ing ihe Hill of Science. Some of the little misses 
of a while past were wearing longer dresses, near- 
ing the border line of girlhood. Belle W. was 
growing in my esteem, a feeling, however, bounded 
by admiration and friendship. Bright, pretty, and 
vivacious, she was a pleasant companion, and I 
caught myself bestowing on her favors that used 
to be lavished upon Cousin Jennie. By the way, 
my fair cousin had developed into a handsome 
young lady, quite a belle among the young knights 
of the James. Much to my relief, our teacher 
visited often across the river. He had boarded 
part of the session at Mr. B.'s, and Miss Kate's 
black eyes had done telling work on his heart, 
judging from little acts of devotion. Little Dick, 
Miss Kate's brother, a juvenile of fourteen years, 
came to school. He was a petted, spoiled chap, 
and very overbearing toward smaller boys. Tay- 
lor Peck, a lame boy from the Valley, was a 
special object of his rough treatment. We larger 
boys often had to shield the little fellow from 



LAST SCHOOL DAY AT THE SEMINARY 255 

Dick's cruelty. There was such a strong feeling 
against "bull-dozing" the smaller boys that Dick 
had scarcely a friend In school. There were plenty 
of "Tom Browns" who were the champions of the 
little boys. 

Our teacher laid stress on the cultivation of 
memory. Our geometry class was thus trained: 
in any of the six books of Legendre only the num- 
ber of the proposition would be given and we had 
to give the caption and demonstrate. In Bullion's 
Latin grammar the sixty-five rules were thus 
learned, and the Latin sentence under each as an 
example. It was splendid training, for principles 
thus learned stuck In our minds fast and long. 

The session was drawing to a close, but not as in 
other days. My last words of old Crystal Spring 
are the saddest of all. Few things here In life 
end as we wish them to do. Hopes the brightest 
are often doomed to be blighted. An idle word 
spoken, or a rash act often turns the tide of things 
from a cherished course. Our teacher of late had 
been lax In discipline ,In a half-dreamy state his 
heart not, as formerly, In his work. Some of the 
boys whispered that he was "dead in love," was 
going to marry Miss Kate, lay aside the birch, and 
join the ranks of the farmers. He spoke of clos- 
ing In a quiet way. But we boys who last year 



256 MEMORY DAYS 

had gotten a taste both of the custard pie and 
lavish praise, wished for more of the same bill of 
fare. So we presented him a formidable petition, 
and reluctantly he granted our request to the ex- 
tent of an exhibition along the line of declamation. 

One day at noon, about three weeks before the 
close of the session, we were engaged in a game of 
town ball. Without any provocation, Dick B. 
struck Taylor Peck with a bat on his lame leg, 
causing him to fall down and writhe in pain. We 
gathered around, all indignant. I was just boiling 
with anger, and I felt I must either report the mat- 
ter to Mr. Paine or paddle Dick well myself. Be- 
ing a smaller boy, prudence dictated the former 
course. I announced my decision, and amid a 
chorus of "Go, go, go!" I gave our teacher a true 
statement, adding that such treatment had been 
going on for some time. He said he'd see about 
it, and sent a message for Dick to report to him. 
With a sneering remark at me, Dick slowly went 
to the interview. Being unprincipled and un- 
truthful, he doubtless denied the charge, and 
slandered me. 

Soon after we were called to our studies, and 
first went to the spring as usual. Dick asked me,, 
"What did you tell Mr. Paine that pack of lies; 
for?" Not having yet cooled down. iXQm thej 



LAST SCHOOL DAY AT THE SEMINARY 257 

scene of the playground, I caught him by his coat 
collar and only shook him, without uttering a 
word. He "boo-hooed," swore vengeance, was 
going to shoot me, and ran up to the house to tell 
his tale of woe. Of course he misrepresented the 
incident at the spring, and when I entered the room 
Mr. Paine asked me in a very angry tone why I 
abused Dick. I told him the provocation, to which 
others testified. A big Valley boy said, "If it had 
been me, I'd kicked him into the creek!" "You 
keep quiet, sir," sharply remarked the teacher. 
"Mr. Paine," said I, "I am sorry I have done 
wrong and wish to be obedient to the rules of the 
school, but I'll defend this poor little lame boy 
against this overbearing fellow." A murmur of 
assent passed around among the boys. There was 
a painful silence. I waited to hear my doom. 

"Get to your lessons," said Mr. Paine, who 
looked troubled and abstracted all evening. When 
the last lesson had been recited and we were wait- 
ing to be dismissed, much to our surprise he said, 
"There will be no more school. You are dis- 
missed." It came like a thunder-clap from a clear 
sky. All sat still, and the silence was oppressive. 
It flashed over me that if I would leave school the 
trouble would be over, as he could not decide be- 
17 



258 MEMORY DAYS 

tween us. I had been a companion and personal 
friend for nearly three years, and Dick was his 
sweetheart's brother. So I spoke up, "Mr. Paine, 
I'll withdraw from school rather than have it stop 
this way. Although I don't think protecting a 
lame boy any reason for leaving." "No, it aint," 
said half a dozen of my friends. Their blood, too, 
was up. Said Nat Morris, "Mr. Paine, the way 
Dick has treated Taylor is a shame, and not a boy 
here wants him in school. Am I not right, boys?" 
"Yes, you are!" fairly shouted the boys. Another 
ominous silence followed. But when Mr. Paine, 
acting under some strange spell, said, "Get your 
books and go home," we arose and prepared to 
go. There were tearful eyes, and some of the 
girls cried as the good-bys were spoken. As there 
were threats of ducking Dick in the creek he has- 
tened on home. 

Some of us boys and girls stayed there a long 
time, discussing the affair and regretting it. It 
was a great fall for the teacher in our estimation ; 
so unfortunate an ending to a long period of suc- 
cess and popularity. Little Taylor took my hand 
and said, "Alex, you've been mighty good to me." 
I caught him in my arms and hugged him. Slowly 
and sadly we turned away from the dear old house, 
where for so many years many of us had spent such 



LAST SCHOOL DAY AT THE SEMINARY 259 

happy hours. The grand old trees that so long 
had sheltered and watched over us, as the evening 
breeze stole through their branches, seemed to 
nod their "farewells" tO' our retreating forms. We 
passed down into the hollow, and Crystal Spring 
passed out of our sight, but not out of our mem- 
ory. 

I wished to hear Cousin Jennie's opinion of the 
affair, and called at her home. She had heard a 
true account, and said, "Alex, you distinguished 
yourself to-day. I'd done just as you did. I can't 
see what has come over Mr. Paine." I replied, 
"I know. He's courting Miss Kate, and hasn't 
got the nerve to make Dick behave himself." It 
was comforting to hear words of approval, for I 
knew well now that Mr. Paine was not disturbing 
her dreams. 

A few days after. Cousin Will called with a 
note for me, and to get a book Mr. Paine had lent 
me. The note read thus: 

"Dear Alex: 

"I see I did wrong and am sorry for it. 'Tis 
too late to mend the matter. I leave this evening. 
I'll never forget your kindness and friendship. 
Make a man of yourself. May God bless you. 
Good-by. Your friend, 

"Wm. F. Paine.'' 



26o MEMORY DAYS 

I hastened into the parlor, closed the door, and 
wept bitterly, for I had loved him dearly. For a 
short while the fountain of my heart was almost 
sealed, but his note opened It, and tears came forth 
In a flood. 



CHAPTER XXXIII 

POLITICAL AFFAIRS 

"In the long vista of the years to roll, 

L,et me not see my country's honor fade; 
Oh! let me see our land retain its soul! 
Her pride in Freedom, and not in Freedom's shade." 

— Keats. 

"Yonder comes a candidate. I can tell him by 
the way he rides." Thus spoke my father, stand- 
ing by his gate, as a fellow-citizen who desired his 
vote rode up. Dismounting, he took my father's 
hand and gave it a long, hearty shake. "How do 
you do, Mr. Paxton? How is Mrs. Paxton? 
How are the little folks? All well? How are 
your crops?" He ranted on for some time, but 
he soon got to the plum in the pudding. "I am 
out for sheriff and most humbly solicit your vote. 
I think you and I agree on political questions, and 
you know me very well." "Yes," replied my fa- 
ther, smiling, "perhaps I know you too well I But 
I think you'll do." "Hurrah! for our side," ex- 
claimed Mr. Frank Shields. "I think I'll beat 
Dick Wilson all to pieces ! But time is precious." 
So, mounting his handsome horse, he cantered off, 
seeking new fields to win. Scarcely had he passed 



262 MEMORY DAYS 

out of sight when my father cried out, ''Look 
yonder! If there isn't another one coming! Why, 
they're just swarming this morning." I should say 
the office of sheriff in that elder day was a very 
remunerative and responsible one. He collected 
the taxes, made arrests, and hanged criminals. 
The two political parties were the Whig and 
Democratic. My father was a Whig. The rival 
candidate was a loyal Democrat, and he then rode 
up. 

He too shook hands, and asked after the wel- 
fare of the home-folks. He was more generous 
than his rival, for as a peace offering he gave us 
children each a stick of red candy. He seemed to 
fear there were rocks in his road, and in a ner- 
vous manner began his speech. "Mr. Paxton, I 
know your standing and influence in the commun- 
ity, and feel that if you will rally around me I'll be 
elected." "Well, you are doubtless qualified for 
the office, but Frank Shields and I are good 
friends, both politically and socially, and I shall 
be loyal to him." "Ah! yes, I see; birds of a 
feather flock together." "Yes, and the flock of 
honest birds doesn't want the owl or the hawk to 
come into their nests." He saw the point and his 
countenance fell. With a weather remark, he too 
pushed on, seeking what he could devour. Still, 



POLITICAL AFFAIRS 263 

the candy was sweet and I think we juveniles would 
have voted for him for any office. We felt like 
the old Pennsylvania Dutchman in the campaign 
of Andrew Jackson, who when they sent the elec- 
tion returns, sent this message, ''If you haven't 
enough to elect him, let us know and we'll send 
some more." 

Woe unto the candidate whose life had not been 
pure -and upright. For his sins surely would be 
painted on the sky for all the world to see. Such 
a one generally had better sense than to try it. 
Some, with brazen face, would start in the race, 
and even if, on rough seas, they sailed tO' the polls, 
there they shipwrecked. For in those days a high 
standard of honor and honesty was demanded by 
the people. The more politic candidate generally 
carried in his saddle pockets a large flask of good 
old "apple jack," a more fiery argument than 
tariff or currency with some voters. 

Even the candidate for governor rode around 
the doubtful districts, spending the night in some 
humble cabin in the mountain hollow, eating corn 
bread and fat bacon, and sleeping in some bed with 
the junior voters of the family. But he won votes 
and so won the prize. 

Governor Barbour tells this incident of one of 
his electioneering tours. "My rival and I met 



264 MEMORY DAYS 

one evening at the home of a plain old farmer 
whose vote was worth much; for as grandpa 
voted, so did quite a long list of descendants. We 
did not touch on politics that night, but strove in 
entertaining our host and hostess with spicy stories. 
We slept in the same bed, the lion and the lamb 
lay down together! I decided that early in the 
morning I'd slip out and try to make my hay be- 
fore the sun shone. But when I awoke the next 
morning the sun was peeping in the window, and 
gently reaching my hand toward my companion, 
lo ! there was an aching void. The early bird was 
out and might get the worm. Looking out of the 
window I saw the old man cutting wood. I 
thought there was my chance and hurried down. 
Said I, 'Good morning, Mr. Moore. Let me 
show you how I can cut wood.' I forgot that I 
had not used an axe for twenty years. I made 
several awkward licks when the old fellow said, 
*If your political axe don't cut any better, you'll 
never get to be gov-nor.' Soon I saw he was on the 
fence and had both legs on the other side. Then, 
remembering that, from observation the night 
before, the queen of the establishment seemed 
to hold the sceptre, I decided to find her and strike 
the political note. Not noticing her about the 
house, and as I saw no servant I thought she might 



POLITICAL AFFAIRS 265 

be out at the stable milking. Away I went on a 
tour of inspection, and peering through a crack 
saw her milking a young cow and my bedfellow 
holding the calf by the tail. My hopes vanished, 
for I knew my cause there was lost. I got my 
horse, thanked the old man for his kindness, and 
went to the next house for breakfast." 

Another candidate told the following: "In the 
twilight I once stopped at an influential home and 
was ushered into the sitting-room before the 
candles were lighted. I noticed in the dim light 
two little tots sitting on the floor near the mother. 
Knowing that kind attention to her babies will 
open the road to any mother's heart, I thought 
there was my chance. So I called them to my 
knees and pronounced them the very image of 
their papa, and, in my zeal to win their mother's 
heart, I bent over and kissed them. I thought 
they tittered as though they enjoyed it, and a mur- 
mur of subdued laughter seemed to pervade the 
room which I thought an auspicious omen for me. 
I rubbed my hands in view of my success in first 
impressions. Soon after a light was brought in 
and I almost fainted from the shock when I saw 
I had kissed two greasy, black little negroes I Al- 
most on my knees, I begged the father's pardon, 
and implored them not to tell of my mistake until 



266 MEMORY DAYS 

after the election. The pets were sent out of the 
room, and It was some time before my tempera- 
ture of mind or body was normal." 

In the Valley there was a sect called the Mil- 
lerites who predicted the end of the world on a 
certain day, and had ready their robes of ascension. 
The leader of a band of these was a well-known 
scamp. Before light on the morning of this day 
they went out on a hill to be ready to mount up as 
Gabriel blew his trumpet. The leader, to be first 
in the upward flight, climbed on the top of a hay- 
stack, and under the burden of the occasion, being 
wearied, he fell asleep. Some mischievous young 
fellows had followed the band to see the fun. The 
snoring of the sleeping saint revealed his roosting- 
place. Then these wicked sinners stuck a match to 
the hay and In a second the flames and smoke be- 
gan to roll around the dreaming victim. Shouting, 
they awoke him. Up he jumped, and cried out in 
the agony of despair, "Judgment day, and in hell! 
Just where I thought I'd be!" Some years after 
he started to run for some office, and the rehearsal 
by his opponent of the words uttered on the burn- 
ing haystack just ran him off the race-track. 

In that day men voted viva voce in a manly 
way. The name of the voter was called out and 
he told In a clear voice the name of his candidate. 



POLITICAL AFFAIRS 267 

There was a ring of honesty about the polls — no 
bribery, no repeating, no stuffing the ballot-box. 

Some grand old men sat in the gubernatorial 
chair of the Old Dominion. There was "Extra 
Billy" Smith, one of the gentlemen of the old 
school. Courteous as a French cavalier, high- 
toned and loyal to the best interests of his Mother 
State, he wore the crown with grace and honor. 
I saw him once in Lexington at a dining at Pro- 
fessor James White's. He was in evening dress, 
erect, and soldierly in his step. Mrs. White came 
in to invite the guests out to the dining-room. As 
guest of honor she asked the ex-Governor to be 
her escort. Placing one hand on his breast and 
bowing very low he said, "Madam, I'd follow 
you to the ends of the earth." 

Another of those giants was Henry A. Wise. 
I heard him on the Fourth of July in 1855, I 
think, at the V. M. I. commencement, deliver di- 
plomas to the graduating class. He told them 
they would find the world harder than the mattress 
of their barracks, but a brave soldier must face and 
conquer every obstacle in his path. Those were 
grand old men who helped make the lustre that as 
a halo encircled the brow of their old mother, and 
whose names are a precious legacy handed down 
from the far off and glorious past. 



CHAPTER XXXIV 

WASHINGTON COLLEGE 

"The helm may rust, the laurel bough may fade. 
Oblivion's grasp may blunt the victor's blade: 
But that bright, holy wreath which learning gives, 
Untorn by hate, unharmed by envy, lives." 

— Grahame. 

Near the northern outskirts of Lexington, on a 
hill, stand the gray ruins of old Liberty Hall 
Academy. They look now just as they looked in 
my boyhood. There I learned that many years 
before, in 1780, Rev. William Graham, one of 
the pioneer teachers of the Valley, taught a clas- 
sical school there and that the seed sown bloomed 
and blossomed into splendid fruitage. It was the 
forerunner of Washington College, founded in 
1 8 13, and George Washington gave liberally to 
Its endowment. As a boy in 1854 I saw it for the 
first time. Having heard of it from early boy- 
hood and seen its graduates who were men In the 
higher walks of life I had for it a veneration sec- 
ond only to old Falling Spring Church. The green 
campus, the long colonnade of massive white pil- 
lars, the statue of Washington on the top of the 
dome were all objects of great interest to- me. 



WASHINGTON COLLEGE 269 

And then when the bell rang for change of classes, 
and the students crowded the colonnade going to 
their recitation rooms, I saw the busy life of the 
great school. I seemed to catch an inspiration, as 
it were, from the surroundings, and something 
seemed to whisper to me to strive to enter this 
temple of learning. 

Some grand old men had been presidents of the 
school. In the administration of Dr. Henry Ruff- 
ner some mischievous students early one morning 
tied a calf in the Doctor's big arm chair in his 
class-room. When he entered, "Baa, baa!" 
greeted his ears with the laughter of the class al- 
ready seated to see the fun. Taking in the situa- 
tion at a glance he said, "Young gentlemen, I see 
you have an instructor fully competent to teach 
you, so ril bid you good morning." The calf was 
soon on the campus and an apology sent to the 
Doctor. 

Professor Campbell had a roguish cow that 
would steal into- the campus and graze, to the an- 
noyance of the students. One night some strong, 
bold fellows caught old Brindle and brought her 
into the central part of the lower floor of the 
Main Building. Then with paints they proceeded 
to give her a coat of many colors. The cow was 
bawling and the boys laughing as they commented 



270 MEMORY DAYS 

on "Old John's fancy stock." But lo ! the Pro- 
fessor, who had caught a whisper of the frolic, 
came on the scene, and In the excitement and dark- 
ness worked his way up close to the painters as the 
finishing touches were being given. Speaking out 
In the meeting he said, "Young gentlemen, this Is 
my property." "Oh my!" "Look out!" they 
cried, the cow was turned loose, and out went the 
lights. The music then was a universal medley, 
cow, professor, and boys all mixed up, the latter 
trying to escape the horns and hoofs of Brindle, 
and In the darkness each one thinking he would be 
gored or trampled on. In the stampede she upset 
several of her tormentors, but with little damage. 
The next day she was the admiration of all who 
saw her. Professor Campbell took it as a joke and 
did not report the boys. 

In September, 1857, I was enrolled as a fresh- 
man In Washington College. I roomed In a build- 
ing bearing the unpoetical name of "Cat Tail." 
The next building was Paradise, In which roomed 
some wild boys, so as to give rise to the expression, 
"Fallen Angels of Paradise." Many students 
roomed In the college buildings and boarded in the 
town. 

In a short time I was visited by the hazing com- 
mittee and "Initiated." This was of a mild type, 



WASHINGTON COLLEGE 27 1 

and consisted In securing one's door and Inserting 
through the keyhole a lighted blasting fuse, fill- 
ing the room with the disagreeable smoke. If to 
get relief one put his head out of the window a 
bucket of water was thrown on the victim. Those 
who took the treatment In a pleasant way were 
visited only once, but woe unto him who raged in 
his den and wanted to fight ! 

I soon found out that studying at college and 
at Crystal Spring were different things. The cur- 
riculum was extensive, especially In mathematics, 
being ahead of any college in the State. In this 
department were descriptive geometry, mechanics, 
and fortifications and gunnery, equal to any uni- 
versity course. Professor A. L. Nelson was the 
Instructor, and well did he do- his work. With 
long, hard lessons I had often to burn the midnight 
oil. 

Professor J. J. White, instructor in Greek, was 
my admiration. With a splendid figure and a 
voice that brought out all the music In the Greek 
words, he impressed all the students. One day In 
class he asked me If I could think of an English 
word derived from '^ gratis ^^ meaning old. I piped 
out, "Granny," much to his amusement. I came 
near having to try to whip some wags who started 
to give me the above nickname. 



272 MEMORY DAYS 

Professor Junius FIshburne taught Latin the 
first half of session, but died, and Hugh White, a 
senior, taught the rest of the session. The college 
suffered a great loss in the death of Fishburne. 

Great stress was laid on declamation, and every 
Friday evening a certain number had to declaim in 
the chapel. It made the knees of the freshmen 
shake to face that critical audience. My training 
at Crystal Spring helped me much in this exercise. 

The discipline of the college was rigid. Students 
had to attend chapel twice a day, church once each 
Sabbath. Every afternoon there was "study hour" 
between 3 and 4 o'clock, when every one was re- 
quired to be in his room and observe perfect quiet. 
A boy simply could not stay there and not study. 
Such discipline is productive of better results than 
the lax system of modem universities. 

On the 19th of January the Graham Philan- 
thropic Literary Society celebrated its anniversary. 
The buildings were lighted up and the beauty 
and chivalry of Lexington and neighboring country 
crowded the chapel. The exercises consisted of 
the "Anniversary Address," and a question dis- 
cussed by four debaters. 

The next great day was February 2 2d, cele- 
brated in honor of the founder of the school. 
The memorial exercises were held in the Pres- 



WASHINGTON COLLEGE 273 

byterian Church, where two speakers, one from 
the Graham and the other from the Washing- 
ton Society, dehvered addresses. The cadet corps 
from the Virginia MIHtary Institute marched to 
the church In martial array, and representatives 
from their two societies also' made addresses. 
Owing to the classical training of the students their 
speeches were generally pronounced to be of a 
more highly finished tone. That night the Wash- 
ington Society held Its annlversity In the chapel. 

Commencement was the great day of each ses- 
sion. With a brass band In the front and a pro- 
cession headed by the board of trustees and faculty, 
we marched over to the Presbyterian Church, 
where the exercises were held. Prayer, the saluta- 
tory in Greek and Latin, two other speeches, the 
valedictory, presentation of diplomas and medals 
and, then '*Good-bye" by the band, when the cur- 
tain dropped on the session, and all soon were 
* 'homeward bound." 

The years passed, and I stepped from one class 
to another, until I was a senior. The average 
senior Is not so wise in his own estimation as a 
sophomore. For he feels how much there Is to 
learn and how little he has learned; that, as it 
were, he has only gathered a few shells on the 
18 



274 MEMORY DAYS 

shore of the great ocean of knowledge whose 
waves are surging at his feet, and the deep swell 
of whose tides reach even to the "flaming walls 
of the universe." 

On April 13th, 1861, we heard the booming of 
the guns at Fort Sumter, and also the deep 
mutterings of the approaching political storm. Old 
Virginia clung to the Union until Lincoln called 
for 75,000 men to whip the sovereign States back 
into the Union. The college was all aglow with 
the spirit of secession. A military company was 
formed, with Professor White as captain. We 
were drilled by cadets from the V. M. I. and it 
was well done. The professors and older men 
formed a squad, and the campus was alive with 
military commands and movements. 

Doctor Junkin was bitter against secession, as 
he was a Northern man by birth and education. 
One night a secession flag was put on Main Build- 
ing by the side of the statue. As the old Doctor 
came in the gate the next morning and his eye 
caught the flag, he jumped up about two feet, and 
cried out, 'Til take that flag down, if I have to 
tear the building down !" He had the janitor take 
it down and burn it, and the Doctor prayed that 
so might all perish who raised a hand against the 
Union. 



WASHINGTON COLLEGE 275 

But we were determined in the matter, and the 
next night a large flag was put up, and next morn- 
ing it was floating beautifully over the building. 
A committee waited on the faculty and told them 
that flag should not come down! By the way, all 
the faculty, except the Doctor, were on our side. 
The flag floated on. 

The Doctor was quiet, and we went into chapel 
orderly. When our class filed into his room and 
took seats he asked Reily on the right, "Mr. Reily, 
is the flag still on the building?" "Yes, Doctor," 
replied Reily. Then the old man read his resig- 
nation, closing with these words, "I'll never teach 
under a rebel flag!" We filed out quietly, and on 
that day recitations closed at the old college, for 
our time was taken up with drill and preparations 
soon to join Jackson at Harper's Ferry. 

The morning came for our departure. We 
marched to the front of the court-house and a 
beautiful company flag was presented to us by the 
ladies of Falling Spring Church, with the Latin 
words on it "Pro aris et focis," i. e., For our altars 
and firesides. Captain White, in quivering ac- 
cents, accepted it. There were few dry eyes in 
that great crowd who came to see us off. The 
drum beat, and at the command, "Forward, 
march," we went to the foot of the hill, where, 



276 MEMORY DAYS 

getting Into a long line of stage coaches and hacks, 
we tearfully took leave of dear old Lexington and 
our alma mater. The old bell was silent and the 
halls deserted. Now closes my ante-bellum story, 
for we were enrolled as soldiers In the greatest 
war of modern times. 

"How can I see the brave and young 
Fall in the cloud of war, and fall unsung?" 

— Addison. 



CHAPTER XXXV 

TOURNAMENTS 

"On his fiery steed betimes he rode, 
That scarcely prints the turf on which he trod." 

A relic of the Middle Ages, in a modified form, 
came down to old Virginia. It was the tourna- 
ment. In those earlier days, however, mail- 
clad knights, with lances couched and on fiery 
steeds, rushed against each other in the arena. 
Their object was to kill or roll in the dust their 
opponents. It was often a contest to avenge a 
wrong or insult to some fair lady, who from her 
seat looked down with smiles upon the brave deeds 
of her champion. Having struck the shield of 
his antagonist with his spear, as a challenge, a 
herald proclaimed the contest, and amid the clash 
of steel and the shouts of the spectators one of 
them was doomed to fall. 

Not so in Virginia. It was more a test of skill 
in horsemanship and steady nerve. A level track 
of some three hundred yards in length and lying 
by the edge of a grove, was chosen. At intervals 
of forty yards three poles were planted by the 
side of this track, with horizontal arms reaching 



278 MEMORY DAYS 

over It. From these arms rings three Inches In 
diameter were suspended on wires so as to be 
easily taken off on a spear. The knight had to 
come by at full speed, and try to take the rings 
off the wires with his lance. The one who, In 
the appointed number of runs, took the most rings 
was the victor, and might crown some fair one as 
queen of love and beauty. It was no easy thing 
to take these rings, and many a hopeful knight 
flew by and left the rings untouched. Now and 
then one more fortunate would take all three rings 
at one dash, when the grove would ring with 
cheers. 

It was In the order of a grand picnic. Notice 
of the day and place, was sent around and posted 
at central points, everybody being Invited. The 
young people came from near and far. Dignified 
papas came to see their boys ride, and smiling 
mamas came, hoping to see their handsome 
daughters crowned, or, at least, be chosen as 
maids of honor. There were three of these maids, 
named by the three knights on the list of rings 
taken next to the highest. Many a rustic swain 
had pledged the crown to some sweet lass should 
he win. There was a judges' stand on which sat 
men of nerve and experience to decide on speed 
or any disputed points. 



TOURNAMENTS 279 

I recall a tournament near Falling Spring. It 
was a beautiful day In September, and the foliage 
of the grove had the gorgeous tints of autumn. 
In carriages, In wagons, and on horseback a great 
crowd gathered early In the day. And not least 
In the general estimation were the heaping baskets 
and Ice cream freezers, fore-runners of a royal 
feast. The knights on the list were named from 
history — Montrose of England, Dunbar of Scot- 
land, Klllarney of Ireland, Navarre of France, 
etc. Each knight had a characteristic costume and 
wore on his breast a representation of the national 
emblem. The English wore the rose, the Scotch 
the thistle, the Irish the shamrock, and the French 
the lily. And as they rode, by twos, before the 
stand and saluted as they passed, they made a 
pretty picture. Down the long line of spectators, 
amid the clapping of hands and waving of hand- 
kerchiefs, they moved to the starting point. The 
riding was fine and the contests close. 

The knight of Mountain Hollow, by his cos- 
tume and mounting, attracted much attention. He 
wore a large straw hat from whose crown waved 
black feathers from a rooster's tall, a long linen 
duster, and long red stockings drawn up over his 
pants. He was mounted on a raw-boned white 
mule. As he made his runs the very ground 



28o MEMORY DAYS 

shook with the exclamations of the crowd. He 
gathered in the rings, too, along with the more 
aristocratic gentry. As he came clattering down 
the track, his hat flapping, his feathers waving, and 
coat-tail streaming out behind, the marshals could 
hardly keep the crowd off the track in their en- 
thusiasm and eagerness to see the clown of the ring. 

On the last run the contest was between the 
knights of Navarre and of Montrose, each having 
the same number of rings. The red rose flew by 
and two rings were taken. His friends cheered 
lustily. The crisis of the day was reached when 
the herald cried, "Make way for the Knight of 
Navarre!" as the crowd was again pressing on 
the track. On he came, his white plume flashing 
down the line, and all the rings were taken ! The 
old grove rang with applause, the very trees seem- 
ing to nod their approval. We all were sure then 
that Miss Mary McC, one of the belles of the 
James, would be queen. 

The lunch was spread on tables in the grove and 
the feast was enjoyed by all. The gallant knights 
from foreign lands all seemed to do justice to Vir- 
ginia biscuit, fried chicken, custard pies, cake and 
ice cream. After a rest from the labors of the 
table, came the crowning of the queen. Sure 
enough. Miss Mary was chosen, and she made a 



TOURNAMENTS 28 1 

pretty, graceful one. And, mirahle dictu, old 
"Mountain Hollow" named, as the second maid. 
Hazel, my blue-eyed friend of years ago. Cousin 
Jennie was chosen third maid by a fellow from 
New York, who had been spending the summer in 
the neighborhood, and rode as the "Black Horse" 
Knight. He was a down-east Yankee, who was 
dressed a la mode, and had a gold watch and 
big fob chain. He had been coming over the 
river to see my cousin far too often, I thought, for 
mere friendship. So the green-eyed monster 
whispered, "Look out! He will steal your sweet 
cousin and carry her to the North." And then I 
was wicked enough to wish him at the north pole 
and in the middle of an iceberg. And when he 
led Jennie up to the queen's court I forgot all 
about the tenth commandment, and was jealous 
and envious from the crown of my head tO' the 
sole of my foot. 

A temporary throne was made and the queen 
was seated thereon, with her maids in order around 
her. A handsome speech was then made by a 
budding genius with oratorical gifts, after which 
the white-plumed knight with trembling hands 
placed the crown of flowers on Miss Mary's head, 
and the courtiers shouted, "Long live the Queen!" 
Then the maids knelt before her in meek obedience, 



282 MEMORY DAYS 

and the court in couples passed before the throne, 
bowing and saluting their sovereign, to all of 
whom she held out the golden sceptre. It was a 
beautiful and impressive scene. I slyly whispered 
to Cousin Jennie that if I had been the victor she 
would have been queen. 

From the high-toned amusement of the tourna- 
ment the Old Dominion often stooped to one 
that smacked of barbaric days. She stepped 
from the sublime to the ridiculous. I refer to a 
brutal performance called "gander pulling." 
There is a vein of brutality found in the so-called 
civilized man. We throw up our hands in pious 
horror at a bull-fight in Madrid, and yet have one 
in New York or Boston unmolested by police; 
and as to standing-room, why, there would scarcely 
be breathing-room ! And this in enlightened 
Christian America ! Why a gander, and not a 
rooster or a gobbler, was selected for this cruel 
sport must be found in the graceful outlines and 
prolongation of the neck. As the gander figures 
in history in saving the proud mistress of the 
world from the Gauls, his species, in succeeding 
ages, should have been spared this humiliation. 

Be it to the honor of the women to say that this 
sport was patronized only by the men, but the 
patrician and the plebeian alike attended and rev- 



TOURNAMENTS 283 

eled in the sport. Here is the game as played by 
our fathers and grandsires. 

A level piece of ground was selected and a pole 
planted by its side, with a cross bar the same as 
for the tournament. To this arm a gander, whose 
neck had been well greased, was hung by a cord 
tied around both feet. The position being uncom- 
fortable, by the free use of his wings he was in a 
state of constant motion. The performance con- 
sisted in galloping by, at full speed, and grab- 
bing the gander by the neck with such a wicked 
wrench as to end his days. It was hard to do, as 
the bird, flapping its wings on the approach of the 
horseman, would make all sorts of lunges, his 
head bobbing here and there. Then, when one 
got hold of his neck, unless his grip was strong 
and quickly clenched it was a failure. If, after a 
dash, the bird hung motionless, the prize was won. 
Then another bird was put in its place, and the 
sport continued until the last neck was wrenched 
out of place. 

The fellow who killed the gander took it home 
and had "roast goose" for Sunday, as these re- 
fined entertainments were celebrated generally on 
Saturday evening. Under some of these birds, 
doubtless, the fire had to be kindled early in the 
morning, else in the evening there would be tired 
jaws and imperfect digestion in the home. 



CHAPTER XXXVI 

LAST VISIT TO CRYSTAL SPRING 

"Oh! a wonderful stream is the river Time, 
As it runs through the realm of tears, 
With a faultless rhythm, and a musical rhyme. 
And a broader sweep and a surge sublime, 
As it blends in the ocean of years!" 

— B. E. Taylor. 

Thirty years have passed since, on that sad 
evening, we bade good-by to old Crystal Spring 
Seminary. Again I am sitting upon the old syca- 
more root that hangs by the spring. The waters 
are gushing out and gurgling over the clean pebbles 
down to the creek, just as they did in my happy 
school-boy days. I drink and they are sweet and 
refreshing as ever, better than any I have tasted in 
these long years. The trout are swimming in the 
hole on the opposite side of the creek. The old 
mountains are standing as of yore, grand and sub- 
lime. But, in many things, how great the change ! 

A few of the old trees near the spring are still 
standing, and some on the bank above. I go up 
on the gentle plateau and a new house, a neat 
dwelling, is standing where the old school build- 
ing stood. Little children are playing in the yard. 



LAST VISIT TO CRYSTAL SPRING 285 

and beyond stands a field of waving corn over our 
old playground. The grand oaks, hickories, and 
poplars that we so loved In those merry days of 
childhood have fallen, some by the axe and some 
by the storm. 

Yet, standing on a rocky knoll, where a grand 
cedar once stood, I can point out many well-re- 
membered spots. I go back to the spring, and 
throwing myself on the green sward near by I look 
up at the blue sky, and memory brings before me 
the past. I again hear sweet girlish voices, and 
the ringing shout of the playground. I am amid 
the buzzing of the schoolroom and hear the final 
good-bys of the last day. I hear the applause 
at our exhibition in the grove and I see Jennie's 
smile of approval. I hear Belle calling me to the 
grape-vine swing, and remember how cheerfully I 
obeyed the pretty princess. But I come back to 
the present and I ask where now are all those 
bright boys and girls that once made life so joyous 
and beautiful In that grove? And then I re- 
member, remember that thirty years have flown 
since those gala days of youth. Time has brought 
changes in our lives and changes in our homes. 
A cruel war has swept over our fair Southern land, 
leaving in its track graves, and tears, and desola- 
tion. And then I remember that upon the ruin 



2 86 MEMORY DAYS 

wrought a new South has arisen; yet we love to 
linger amid the memories and monuments of the 
old. 

Where are they, did I ask? Some are still 
fighting the battles of life, and many have passed 
over the river. Some of those girls are now 
mothers training their households in the good old 
paths. Many of those boys are found in various 
avenues of industry making good citizens and ful- 
filling the promises of their boyhood. Aunt 
Rachel sleeps in the cemetery of Falling Spring. 
I tread lightly as I walk around her grave. "Her 
deeds follow her." Mr. Paine was a gallant sol- 
dier in our Southern army, and now lies in the 
graveyard of Holly Springs. Cousin Will fell at 
First Manassas. On the next morning I helped to 
wrap him in his blanket and lay him in his soldier's 
grave, over which the wild rose blossoms, and 
around which the morning birds sing a requiem. 
William A., wounded in a gallant charge at Man- 
assas, still halts on his leg. He is a leader at the 
bar and Attorney-General of Virginia. 

I ask where is Dick B.? and echo answers, 
"Where?" The man was the outcome of the boy. 
A bloated debauchee, he was shot down to avenge 
an insult. Cousin Jennie, in a happy home, reigns 
as queen. Of the girl friends of my boyhood she 



LAST VISIT TO CRYSTAL SPRING 287 

was the flower of them all. Belle lends a charm 
to a choice circle, a princess In the sphere In which 
she moves. And, as I look around and see that 
my only companions are those which Nature gives 
me, I can but think of the beautiful lines of Moore, 

"I feel like one who treads alone 
Some banquet hall deserted, 
Whose lights are fled, whose garlands dead, 
And all but me deserted." 

Then, too, I remember that nearly all the dear 
old people are gone to their rest, and strangers 
tread In the ancestral halls. I am almost a stranger 
In the land of my fathers. Bidding farewell to the 
almost sacred spot, I slowly depart, and as I 
turn to take a last look at the dear old spring, these 
words, as true as ever poet sang, come Into mind : 

"But the bloom and the fragrance of those by-gone years 
V^ill linger around its waters forever." 



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